City of Ports: The Shadow Over Portsmouth Book 1 (preview)

Prologue

I was the one to find your body.

That night I was on patrol in Portsmouth in zone 1, the half of Islington Street farther away from downtown. I pulled alongside Officer Skip Bradley's cruiser in one of the shopping plazas on Islington, just to check in with him. He was supposed to be patrolling zone 4, downtown, but it was a slow night. No opioid ODs or noise complaints from rich fucks, at least not yet.

"Hey girl. You need anything from Street?" Skip Bradley asked me from his open window. He unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Thanks for the offer—but I'm good." I let the girl comment pass.

"You sure? They got them curry fries. And 'schwarma,' that's Indian too, right?"

I sighed. "No. Thanks." The prickle of anger just under my skin made me add: "You know I grew up here in New Hampshire, right?" I added a smile just to show how cool ol' Divya Allard was. No humorless battleaxe here, just another comrade in blue. But judging from Bradley's reaction, the smile must have come out all wrong.

"Yeah? So?" He'd turned truculent.

I waved him off. "Enjoy. I'll radio you if I run into any miscreants or malcontents out here." And then, just because I don't know when to shut my mouth, I added, "Shiva's blessings be upon you!"

He gave me a confused look and headed into the Street restaurant for his coffee and snack (and perhaps a hey girl for the hostess). I told you enough times about the shit I had to deal with as a woman in the department, and a woman of color at that. But I loved my job. I hope you understood that, too. One day soon, I was going to make detective and show meatheads like Bradley where he could shove his hey girl.

I drove across the street to the opposite plaza, the one with the grocery store, and parked in a lonely spot. I was in the mood for walking. I strolled toward Brewery Lane, a quiet street in back of the plaza. That's how I happened to be there to see the person emerge from shadows between the old industrial brick buildings.

A hooded figure. Dusty red winter coat on a warm night. It approached the street from an odd angle—like it just came from the excavation site behind the Brewery Lane buildings. And it didn't seem excited to see me. It skewed its walking path away from me. This wasn't sufficient reason for me to stop the person, whoever it was. But I did get curious.

I went the same way it came from. Between the buildings. I glanced behind me, but the figure was still walking away, not running. I kept going until I reached the excavation site. A few earth-movers stood over the hole. No foundations yet, so not much to see.

I shone my flashlight into the hole. Still, I wouldn't have spotted you if not for the flash of your engagement ring. The one I gave you, the one that matched my own. The jewel caught the light and winked, just once.

My radio crackled. "Allard. Sorry about—"

"Never mind that," I said. "Got something suspicious here. Excavation pit near the grocery plaza."

"Well, don't leave me out of the action," Bradley said. "Hold on."I ignored his suggestion and crabwalked down the slope of dirt and rock until I reached where the wink had come from. My flashlight showed me the crumpled figure of a young woman.

As soon as I saw you, I dropped the flashlight. The lens shattered against a rock, and you and I plunged into darkness again.

My legs refused to hold me up. I banged my knee on another goddamn rock. But I wouldn't let the rebellion of my legs keep me from you. I crawled to your side. The meager moonlight showed me you were utterly still.I tried mouth to mouth anyway. Your lips were cold.