Swerve by Michelle McGriff Page B

apprehend this woman, as she is suspected to have single-handedly slaughtered five people on a killing spree, which started last night at approximately ten P.M . at The Spot tavern in the Palemos. This spree has resulted in the murder of the tavern’s owner, Mike Brumsky…”
    â€œMike is really dead,” Keliegh repeated, sitting back down on the sofa. Mike, their Mike, the bartender who over the years had become a friend to all on the force. The day’s news was catching up to his brain, fact by awful fact. Sure he’d heard that Mike was dead, but reality was hitting him. “Dead! Romia?” How could Romia be a murder suspect?
    Shashoni wrapped her arms around his shoulders, embracing him, consolingly nuzzling his neck. Slowly, her hands wandered over his shoulders to his chest, where she began to massage him sensually.
    He grabbed her hands, pulling them over his head as he stood and spun to face her. “Look, this is serious!”
    â€œI am serious. This all is very crazy and I’m scared, Kel. I need you to hold me,” she added, outstretching her arms.
    â€œHere is a picture of the suspect,” the newscaster went on as a very unflattering photo of Romia flashed on the screen.
    â€œGod, she looks horrible,” Shashoni gasped, turning her head toward the TV just as Romia’s picture flashed on the screen. “Where did they find that god-awful photo? She needs to sue them. Well, I guess if she’s out killing people it doesn’t really matter. That’s crazy, Kel…and to think that you thought you knew her.”
    Keliegh turned back to the screen with wide eyes, and then, without saying good-bye, he darted out the door. His head was whirling and his cell phone was ringing. It was Tommy.
    He didn’t pick up.

Chapter 16
    Keliegh’s trip out to The Spot was different from Romia’s in that he was met with yellow tape, photographers, plenty of plastic gloves, and a grimacing uncle who was making his way through blood and gore while looking for evidence.
    â€œSo you knew about this?” Lawrence Miller asked Keliegh, who still seemed amazed at the sight he was seeing.
    People gathering to get a glimpse of dead bodies was always what Keliegh hated most about scenes like this. He worked vice, but sometimes it overlapped with homicide and when it did, it was usually bad news.
    â€œTell me how in the hell you knew about this before it happened?”
    â€œI didn’t…I don’t.” Keliegh was fighting shock. “I want to know what you got, though. I want to know who’s dead.”
    â€œHow should I know, nobody seems to carry ID anymore.”
    Keliegh shook his head. He was thinking of Maxwell Huntington. How did he know about this? “Damn.”
    â€œSo, you need to get back to finding your little ex-partner. We have some questions for her and if we find her first…” Lawrence said before gagging.
    His partner then joined their conversation. Jim Beem was a shorter white guy with a cool, scruffy look. On some level he was probably considered a handsome man, but to Keliegh he just seemed like an odd little man. “You gonna puke? Please don’t puke,” Jim said before turning his attention to Keliegh. “Hey, Kel, you rubberneckin’ or what?”
    â€œNo, just here to see if there really are dead bodies here this time,” Keliegh said without thinking.
    â€œAs opposed to a crime scene without any…now what fun is that?” Jim asked. “My question here is how many killers?”
    â€œOne,” Lawrence barked. “Witnesses say a woman fitting Romia’s description came in to talk to”—he pointed at one of the body bags—“body number one, and when”—he pointed at the other three bags—“they came in, she turned into a ninja warrior and did a number on those three before tossing a knife into”—again he pointed at the first