Page 136 of Cold, Cold Bones
“What part of everyneeds explaining?” Too much stress and too little sleep were turning Skinny even more churlish than normal. “Everyone’s in—the state boys, the feebs. A special agent name of Mitch Byrd is in charge. MitchTurdis more like it.”
“What’s your problem with Byrd?”
“The guy’s got a bug up his ass over a homicide we worked eight years ago. Turd played the angles wrong and I called him on it. Dickwad hates my guts and the feeling’s mutual.”
“Surely the two of you can get along for this.”
“Screw Byrd. I’m taking orders from Mangiorotti.”
Captain Julian Mangiorotti headed the CMPD detective division. Knowing that the feud with Byrd was typical Skinny, I had no interest in learning details of the squabble.
“When did the child vanish?” I asked.
“Yesterday morning.” I heard engine sounds in the background. A turn signal clicking.
“Any chance it’s a runaway?”
“The kid’s eleven.”
“A noncustodial parent abduction?”
“Gee. We never thought of that.”
Easy, Brennan.
“When was the last sighting?”
“At 0740, the kid was walking south on Quail Hollow Road toward Beverly Woods Elementary. Never made it. I’m meeting Detective Dimwit to canvas at the school. You’d think—”
“I have news,” I said.
“Not now.”
“Ryan and I got a probable for the hit-and-run vic.”
“No shit.” Grudgingly interested.
“The ID’s not positive, but it looks good for an eighteen-year-old Chilean temporarily in the States on a student visa. Andrea-Louisa Soto.”
A car door opened. I heard grunting, the scrape of Skinny’s substantial derriere.
“Later.”
Slidell disconnected.
No “good work,” “nice job,” “well done.”
Pure Skinny.
“Detective Dimwit?” Ryan asked.
“Henry.”
“Why does Skinny dislike her?”
“He’s Skinny.”
We rode in silence for a while, listening to the wipers and the icytic-tic-ticof the drops they were chasing. Ryan spoke as we pulled in at Sharon Hall.
