Free A Winter Kill by Vicki Delany

Copyright © 2012 Vicki Delany
    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
    Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
    Delany, Vicki, 1951-
A winter kill [electronic resource] / Vicki Delany.
    (Rapid reads)
    Electronic monograph.
Issued also in print format.
ISBN 978-1-55469-957-5 ( PDF ).-- ISBN 978-1-55469-958-2 ( EPUB )
    I. Title. II. Series: Rapid reads (Online)
PS 8557. E 4239 W 56 2012         C 813’.6             C 2011-907569-5
    First published in the United States, 2012
Library of Congress Control Number: 2011942470
    Summary: When rookie police constable Nicole Patterson discovers a body on the edge of town, she’s drawn into a murder investigation that’s well beyond her experience and expertise. ( RL 2.8)

    Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on paper certified by the Forest Stewardship Council ® .
    Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
    Design by Teresa Bubela
Cover photography by Getty Images
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For my mother, a teacher

CHAPTER ONE
    S ometimes you can just tell. When they’re dead.
    They don’t have to even look dead. Not really. More like they’re sleeping.
    There’s something different about a dead body.
    You can always tell.
    I haven’t seen many dead bodies. Not yet. I’ve only been a cop for six months.
    I took a deep breath and swung the beam of my flashlight around the field. I touched the radio at my shoulder with one hand and the Sig Sauer at my hip with the other. Trying to steady my nerves. The sky above was pitch black, and it was very cold.
    A plastic bag that had blown up against the rusty wire fence moved. My heart jumped into my throat. It was only a cat. Yellow eyes glared at me. It hissed once and darted off. Its tail swayed in the still air and then it was gone.
    All was quiet. A single car drove down the road. It did not stop. When I thought I could breathe properly again, I spoke into the radio. “Dispatch. Three-oh. One-oh-two.”
    â€œGo ahead, one-oh-two.”
    â€œI’m on Kingsley Road, not far from County Road Twenty-two. Near the airfield. VSA. I need an ambulance and backup.”
    VSA, the dispatcher knew, means vital signs absent. A dead body in other words.
    This road was well out of town. The moon and the distant lights of Picton were hidden by thick clouds. The long rows of boarded-up buildings on the abandoned World War II airfield were dark. Amber and white security lights did little to break the night. The flashing red and blue of my patrol car reflected off the snow.
    I shifted my feet. Snow crunched beneath my boots. I dropped to a squat beside the body. It was a woman. Her long pink scarf was wrapped tightly around her neck. Too tight to let air pass. I ran the beam of my flashlight across her face. Her eyes bulged. Her mouth hung open and a swollen pink tongue stuck out. A silver ball was pierced through the middle. She had piercings running up her right