Rejection: Publishing Murder Mystery (Lou Drake Mysteries) Read Online Free

crackled.
    “Here,” Dodd said.
    “Check out the apartment at 135-B Delancy Street. Outside walk up. Neighbors are complaining of a foul smell coming from the second floor alley studio.”
    “Copy that,” Dodd snapped back. “We’re on it.”
    “Jesus,” Drake said. “You gotta be such a brown nose? Answer with a yes and be done with it.”
    “Just following protocol.”
    “Spare me.”
    Dodd turned a corner and started scanning for the address. He stopped at the curb beneath a hulk of a tenement building. The alley was a chasm of dark. The streetlights created a halo of light only a few feet into the space between the two buildings. An iron staircase rose from the alley floor to an iron mesh landing, which fronted a metal door with a mailbox wired to the railing. A zigzag of fire escape ran the height of the six-story brick tenement. Rain dripped off the corrugated aluminum overhang and chugged from a gutter pipe beneath the metal stairs.
    “Looks like Freddy Kruger lives here,” Drake said.
    “Well, let’s check it out.”
    Dodd took off his seat belt.
    “You go,” Drake said as he shifted his bulk.
    Dodd stopped and gave him a disbelieving look. “We both have to go.”
    “Hey, you know so much about everything, you should be able to handle a bullshit call like this.”
    “Look,” Dodd argued, “it’s standard procedure to—”
    “Don’t bust my ass about procedure. It’s gonna turn out to be a dead dog somebody forgot to feed so you don’t need a hack like me to help you. I’m just the pathetic guy who can’t even get a book published, remember?”
    Dodd shook his head in obvious disgust. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” He got out and slammed the door.
    Drake smirked with satisfaction as he watched Dodd slog his way into the alley. The little prick would come back drenched. It served him right.
    Dodd’s flashlight twitched over wet bricks as Drake watched him climb slowly up the rusted stairs. Dodd paused at the top outside a door, and then reached for his collar. Drake’s radio rasped to life with Dodd’s voice.
    “The door is ajar and the smell is disgusting. There’s got to be something dead in there.”
    Drake rolled his eyes. What a pussy.
    “So what are you waiting for?” Drake said into his radio. “Go in and take a look.”
    It was hard to tell through the rain-streaked windshield, but Drake was pretty sure Dodd flashed him the finger before disappearing inside.
    Dodd suddenly backed out of the apartment with one hand near his face. He stood for a few seconds as if he couldn’t decide what to do, then turned and started clambering down the stairs as quickly as he could go. Drake wondered what kind of weak-ass story he would come back with.
    Ten feet above the sidewalk Dodd lost his footing and tumbled the rest of the way. One foot caught awkwardly on the wet metal railing and spun him so his head and shoulders hit the ground first. He did not get up.
    “Jesus Christ,” Drake said as his hands fumbled at his seat belt.
    Dodd was writhing in pain when Drake made it to his side.
    “Where’s it hurt?” Drake asked.
    “My leg,” Dodd said through clenched teeth.
    Drake looked down and swallowed hard. Dodd’s foot lay at an unnatural angle and something that could only be broken bone was pushing his trouser leg out. There was blood and it spread quickly.
    Drake took a steadying breath and thumbed the button on his mobile radio.
    “Dispatch? Car 51 requires immediate medical assistance at 135 Delancy. Officer down. Possible broken leg.”
    “Roger that,” the dispatcher’s voice came back.
    Dodd grabbed a fistful of Drake’s pant leg. “Tell them to send backup!” The pain obvious in his tortured voice.
    Drake looked around but could see no obvious threat. “I don’t see why—”
    “And a Detective,” Dodd screamed at him. “There’s a body up there. A fucking body, okay?”
    Drake felt a wave of cold wash through his gut. He was starting to get a