Free The Green Lama: Unbound (The Green Lama Legacy Book 3) by Adam Lance Garcia Page B

stomach he knew she was at the center of this, the knot at whose center all these strings were tied.
    The Keystone. They had called her the Keystone.
    And if what he saw was indeed the future, could he change it? Rabbi Brickman had seen the coming holocaust of his people and had done all he could, creating a golem in hopes of altering the path of history, and even then he was unable to stop the tide.
    Gazing out into the sky, Jethro couldn’t help but think how green the moon looked.
    He frowned. He would not be sleeping tonight.
    • • •
    The Green Lama jumped down into the alleyway. Having only saved a single vial of his radioactive salts during his escape from Rick Master’s airship, he was mindful not to expend his energy too quickly. He had left his enhanced salts onboard the airship in an unconscious effort to prove to himself—and to Jean—that Jethro Dumont was as much a hero as the Green Lama. But old habits die hard, and Jethro once again found his face hidden beneath a viridian hood. And while his new robes fit him well, he found the lack of furred cuffs and the more monastic cut slightly uncomfortable. For now he kept to the shadows, moving silently toward the town’s police station. While he had complete faith in Ken and Caraway, he hoped to aid their efforts by learning all he could about Jean’s alleged homicide.
    What he knew so far was scant. According to the shopkeeper, Jean was seen running from the mayor’s official residence shortly before his body was found with an axe blade to the head. She was arrested less than an hour later in her hotel room across town. She broke free shortly after and had been on the run ever since.
    Jethro didn’t need to be a super powered detective to know something didn’t add up. Someone was framing her, he was certain, but who and for what purpose? Hopefully, he could find some clues tonight. His first stop would be the local police station, where he expected to learn more of the “official” version of the crime.
    Sneaking in through an opened window, Jethro walked silently past several dozing policemen toward the record room. The door was locked, but with a quick twist of his wrist, the lock broke in two.
    He found the file easily, a thin manila folder simply marked ‘.” Inside were the standard forms filled out by the investigating— and clearly inept—detectives, detailing the crime scene. Beyond the revelation that the murder weapon hadn’t been found, there was nothing in them that he didn’t already know; it was the photos, however, that took him by surprise.
    There were ten of them, showing Astrapios’s corpse at a variety of angles, each more gruesome than the last. Jethro had seen some terrible things since he had taken up the mantle of the Green Lama, but he was still sickened by what he saw. Astrapios’s body lay sprawled out, naked on his bed, his bearded face split in two. Blood and brain matter was splattered against the headboard and wall. Jethro’s stomach turned as his mind attempted to imagine the sequence of events leading up to Astrapios’s demise, moments of passion and intimacy climaxing with murder. He could not decide which disturbed him more: the thought of Jean murdering a lover or of her having a lover at all.
    He grimaced; of all things, was he jealous?
    Jethro shook his head. No, Jean couldn’t be the killer. And if Astrapios had been her lover, then…
    He moved to another photo, this one of the adjacent wall. There was a noticeable egg-shaped absence of blood splatter above a small empty table. Jethro raised an eyebrow; something had been stolen, but what? Nothing else in the room seemed to be out of place. If this was indeed a robbery, the killer—or killers—seemed to know exactly what they wanted.
    Then something else caught his eye. He thought it could be a trick of light, but he began looking over the images once more, finding it in every picture. Though lost in the blood splatter to the untrained eye, Jethro