The Pain Scale Read Online Free Page B

end with Vicodin or with vodka. If the pain tends toward the sharper side, the narcotic usually works better, but if it’s duller and more generalized, the Grey Goose is usually more effective. Either way, just to take the edge off, I have to get so wrecked that I wind up in a near-drooling daze.
    At that point, I’d manage with just one or the other, but most days I figure it is just a matter of time. It is all about the Vs.

    Even with a solid four hours of sack time, I still managed to beat the lieutenant into the squad room by more than an hour. When he arrived, he helped himself to one of the donuts I’d brought. He went for his regular—a maple bar. Me, I was on my second vanilla cruller. And I had serious designs on a third. That’s the thing about picking up the pink boxes yourself. It’s really the only way to make sure you get enough crullers. Nobody ever gets enough crullers. And nothing starts the day off worse than having to settle for some strawberry-coconut piece of crap.
    “Rise and shine,” Ruiz said around his first bite. “You get any sleep?”
    “A little.” I didn’t sleep much. The previous night’s discovery about the case’s effect on my pain hadn’t allowed me much rest. But I couldn’t deny that I’d woken that morning feeling more enthusiastic about going to work than I had in a long time. Would I be able to get lost in the case again? What would happen to my pain? Now that I was aware of the phenomenon, would the relief disappear?
    “What’s the game plan?”
    “I’m hoping we can talk to Bradley Benton today. We’ve also got a friend who Sara canceled lunch plans with yesterday to interview. Beyond that, Jen and I are putting together Sara’s last seventy-two hours and working the victimology. Anything about the rush on the autopsy?”
    “Paula’s doing it herself.”
    Paula Henderson is the lead medical examiner for the southern region of the LA County’s coroner’s jurisdiction. “The chief asked her to move the Bentons to the head of the line. So make some time for the prelim this afternoon.”
    “Will do.” I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of strings had been pulled on the congressman’s behalf. “When’s the press conference?”
    “Sometime this morning. Probably around ten so it’ll be less likely to be picked up live. The brass are happy as pigs in shit. None of the media’s caught wind of anything yet. They can’t stop talking about ‘managing the story.’” Los Angeles had local news coverage on one station or another all day long, but the 9 to 11 a.m. window had the fewest live broadcasts going on. “They’re hoping to break it before any media does. You get any calls yet?”
    “Not so far.”
    “The chief wants something planned before the congressman gets involved.”
    “Think he’ll want to be at the conference?”
    “I can’t imagine a politician missing a chance to make a speech.”
    “Better make it quick, then. You want Jen and me for the stand-up?”
    “I’ll get you out of it if I can, but don’t count on it.”
    “Might be a good chance to lasso some of the family.”
    “Good idea.”
    The brass would want the two lead investigators on the case to appear at the press conference disclosing the Benton murders. It was standard procedure. We wouldn’t speak or be spoken to. Our job would be to just stand there looking sad and competent. If Jen and I had to dance our jig, we’d lose a few hours of prime investigative time. But it might be worth it if it gave us an opportunity to interview the family.
    It was quarter to eight when Jen arrived. She eyeballed the donuts but didn’t take one.
    She studied me.
    “What?” I asked.
    “You look rested,” she said.
    I thought about telling her what had happened last night, telling her about the relief the case seemed to be bringing me. But I didn’t know how to say it. I’d been trying to play down my pain levels. I knew she saw through it to some degree, but I didn’t know