Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 Read Online Free Page B

loudly.
    June’s head snapped my direction. “Who the hell are you?”
    “Does it matter?”
    She gave me a wounded look so I gave her my name.
    “Julie Collins.”
    Mumbling, she headed uphill until she was close enough to burn me with the full wattage of her glare.
    “How do you know where it is?”
    “Because I was here when it happened.” I pointed to the hole fi fteen feet away. “Th
    at’s it.”
    She froze.
    “What’s wrong?”
    She didn’t answer right away; she stared in disbelief at the shallow pit. “Who dug that up again?” she said, almost to herself.
    But I’d heard it. “Again? You knew about this?”
    June’s outburst with Deputy Al hadn’t been an irra-tional expression of grief. Her observation had been dead 26

    on. Th
    is wasn’t a sinkhole; the red soil at the bottom and around the sides was chunky and moist, unlike the dry dirt surrounding it. Th
    is hole had been dug recently.
    If June knew the hole had been there, why hadn’t Lang?
    Her dull blue eyes met mine. Guilt. Fear. Pain. I recognized it and could do nothing to alleviate it in her or in myself.
    I refocused. “June, what was in that hole?”
    She shook her head.
    Somber male voices carried on the wind. At least they weren’t laughing and joking like some crime scenes.
    Crime scene. Not the situation I’d prepared for when I’d rolled out of bed this morning. And I realized it was no longer my job.
    I shouted, “Hey, sheriff !”
    June grabbed my arm. “Don’t say nothin’ to him.”
    “If there was another reason why Lang—”
    “Th
    ere ain’t no other reason. He hit that hole and died. He ain’t gonna be any less dead if the sheriff goes pokin’ around.”
    My mouth opened.
    “Please.”
    Without waiting for my response, she peeked over the edge. Took a step and her fl ip-fl ops slipped, sending her sliding sideways toward the gaping maw that’d claimed Lang’s life.
    27

    I lunged for her, grabbed the jersey and jerked her back. “Watch out.”
    June lost it. She threw her arms around my neck.
    “Get me away from here. I can’t believe the son of a bitch went and died on me! What am I gonna do? Oh, God.
    Oh, Lang.”
    Her grief kicked me in the gut. With her clinging to me and bawling her head off like a lost calf, I slowly navigated my way down to the sheriff .
    “What’s going on?”
    I attempted to shake her off ; she’d become a buck brush burr, refusing to let go.
    “I wanna go home,” June wailed.
    “I understand, Mrs. Everett. We’ll get you there as soon as possible, but we need to ask you some questions.”
    Th
    e sheriff ’s gaze raked her from bare head to bare feet.
    “Maybe you’d better warm up in the car fi rst.”
    She released me.
    I squirmed away. I didn’t get far.
    She grabbed my hand. “Don’t go.”
    My initial response didn’t make it out of my mouth, fortunately for her.
    Did she want me around because I was the only woman present? Or because she thought I’d talk to the sheriff about the mysterious hole while she was warming her tootsies?
    28

    I needed a shot of tequila. Better yet, a whole bottle.
    Th
    e sheriff drifted closer. I had to tilt my head back to look in his eyes.
    “Julie, will you stay with her while we fi nish up?”
    He frowned. “Wouldn’t hurt you to warm up.”
    Like I could say no now. When I attempted a smile, I realized my teeth were chattering.
    June scooted into the back seat of the patrol car.
    I followed. Th
    e sheriff slammed the door behind us.
    Great. We were locked in. When I noticed his smirk through the window I understood that’d been his plan all along.
    Bastard.
    Th
    e police radio in the front seat squawked. June watched the ambulance drive away and sobbed softly.
    It’d be less painful to beat my head into the metal partition until my ears rang rather than listen to her desperate, raw cries.
    My head fell back and I closed my eyes.
    Finally June stopped weeping and asked, “Are you a cop?”
    “No, I’m a private