Page 104 of Girl Between (Dana Gray FBI Mystery Thriller #5)

Dana was at the bar ordering another bucket of beers when Donnelly, one of George’s rookies, let out a string of swears that would make a sailor blush.

“What is it?” George asked the young officer.

“Not it!” Donnelly’s partner shouted, putting a finger to his nose.

“Come on!” Donnelly shouted. “I just got here.”

“Exactly,” his partner chided. “You haven’t had anything to drink yet,” he said, swiping Donnelly’s untouched beer.

Donnelly grabbed the bottle back, handing it to LaSalle with a wink before turning to the bartender. “You can put that on this shmuck’s tab.” He shoved his NOPD hat back on and strode out of the bar, responding to the chatter on his radio. “Officer responding. 10-6.”

“What’s a 1-5-3?” Dana asked.

“Trespassing,” Neville explained, joining Dana and George at the bar. “Tower again. Third time this month. Wish they’d tear down that damn eyesore already.”

“He means the Plaza Tower,” George explained .

Neville huffed. “That 45-story monstrosity needs to meet the business end of a wrecking ball.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Dana asked.

“Don’t get him started,” George warned.

“What isn’t?” said Neville. “Building a skyscraper below sea-level is batshit enough. Land don’t got the infrastructure to support that kinda weight.

And thanks to shoddy construction, toxic mold, and asbestos, no business will set foot in the place.

Been closed since ’02. Which means we’ve been battling junkies, prostitutes and vagrants squatting there for more than a decade.

Fires, jumpers, falling debris, you name it.

That building is a disaster waiting to happen. ”

LaSalle strolled up. “Neville heated over the Tower again?”

“Mm-hmm,” muttered George.

“Why doesn’t it get demolished if it’s such a problem?” Dana asked.

“Lawsuits,” Neville grumped. “City’s sued the current owners so many times they owe more in court fees than back taxes.

Nobody can agree to do anything until they settle up.

” Neville shrugged. “Just one of those things. It’s gonna be tied up in court till it falls apart or kills somebody.

Lord knows that net ain’t protecting nobody. ”

Dana raised her eyebrows. “Net?”

George chimed in. “When debris started falling from the upper floors the city had to shut down a six-block street grid in the CBD until the area could be fenced off. A large black net was constructed around the top of the tower to catch any additional debris.”

Recollection washed over Dana. “I’ve seen that building.”

“Hard to miss,” said LaSalle.

“Don’t act like it’s all talk,” Neville chided. “You add ten minutes to your daily commute to steer clear of Howard and Loyola.”

“Hell yeah!” LaSalle agreed. “If I’m going down it better be from a bullet, not some building debris.”

Neville raised his beer, and he and LaSalle clinked bottles.

George shook his head, turning to say something to Dana when his pager buzzed. A half second later, the rest of the bar was abuzz with the same sound. Every officer in the place checked their devices and solemnly began filing out of the bar, throwing down cash on their way out.

“What’s going on?” Dana asked, praying she was wrong. But she’d heard the ominous address quietly spoken by the somber-faced officers.

5190 Canal. Greenwood Cemetery.

The Casquette Girl killer wasn’t done yet.