EXCERPT

     As we came to the railroad tracks, the lights were flashing and the gates were going down. I could see that Howie was thinking about jumping the tracks. He craned his neck to get a good look at the oncoming train.
For one second I thought he was going to go for it, and in the next second after that I was sure we'd both get demolished - but he didn't go. I closed my eyes and listened to my heart beating in my chest.

     "Perfect timing," he said. He pushed the gearshift into park and leaned back in his seat. "Although I guess she's not going anywhere."

     I looked at him.

     "Sorry," he said. "That's the kind of thing a cop says to get
through a night like this."

     I didn't have a response to that. I put my head back against the car seat and watched the train go by. As the cars sped past, they made a sort of zoetrope, with each split-second gap giving us a glimpse of the other side. I saw the white of the police cars, the spinning red and blue lights. The people. It was all happening right there, just beyond the tracks.

     It was a long train. If you live in Kingston, you're accustomed to it. So many trains going by every day, on their way north to Albany or south to New York City. So many streets closed for minutes at a time. We waited as each car rolled by.

     "So tell me something," Howie said. "What was Marlene wearing?"

    "On our date? A blue dress." And a necklace, I thought. A beautiful blue necklace she made herself and I forgot to compliment her on.

     "That was last night."

     "It feels like longer, but yeah. This woman you found. Is that what she's wearing?"

     "Thank God, this train is finally ending."

     "Howie, what is this woman wearing? What am I gonna see?"

     "It's a dress," he said, putting the car back in gear. "It might be
blue. It's hard to tell."

     The caboose went roaring past. The gates went up. Howie pulled forward over the tracks, but he didn't have far to go. He pulled off to the right, where all the other cars were, and parked. We were right on the edge of St. Mary's Cemetery.

     There were seven police cars there, maybe eight. An ambulance, just because there's always an ambulance. A few other vehicles. We got out and walked down the tracks, toward the people gathered there. We pushed our way through until we came to the yellow police tape. A cop in a uniform saw Howie and let him through. I followed him.

     There were several men holding flashlights. I recognized three of the other Kingston detectives. A man was taking pictures in the tall weeds.
I felt a hand on my back. It was Robert Brenner, the Kingston chief of police. He was a little taller than me and at least twenty years older. He looked to be in great shape for his age, like one of those lean welterweights who can tie you up with their long reach.

     "Thanks for coming down, Joe." He knew me by name, the same way he'd know just about everybody in my office. It was a small enough city, or maybe he was just a little better with names than most people.

     "Who found her?" I said. I couldn't think of anything else to say, and I wasn't sure I was ready to go look at her yet.

     "A couple of kids. Around eight o'clock."

     "How long has she been out here?"

     He shook his head. "Twenty-four hours, give or take. We don't know for sure yet."

     "I should take a look now?"

     "If you would."

     He pressed on my back, a gentle but unmistakable push forward. I swallowed hard and made myself go to her, even as part of me wanted to run away. When I was close enough, I looked down and saw her lying there in the shallow glow of the flashlights.

     She was on her back, with her hands folded neatly on her stomach.
For one terrible second my eyes fooled me and I saw a woman who had lain down to look up at the stars. The reality caught up with me when I saw her face. The lifeless stare. The mouth open. And her neck... something black wrapped tight around her neck...

This ends the excerpt from Steve Hamilton's novel, Night Work.
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