Scene of the Crime
My phone rang, waking me out of a deep sleep, and it was a good sleep, too. I’d been dreaming of Number Two, and all of the magnificent things I’d like to do with her—or to her.
She’d forced me to open my eyes and look at her in a new light, and now that I’d taken that step, I liked what I saw.
I grabbed the phone. “Cataldi.”
“We’ve got a body, and I thought you’d want to know about it.” It was the night-duty desk sergeant.
“It’s the middle of the goddamn night. I don’t want to hear about any body unless she’s naked and very much alive.”
And she looks like Number Two.
“It’s not the middle of the night; it’s not even midnight. And besides, you’ll want to hear about this one. The police up in Conroe called. I guess you had talked to them about some people of interes
