Read Online A Candidate For Murder (Old Maids of Mercer Island Mysteries Book 2) by LYNN BOHART - Free Book Online Page A

run. I was probably overthinking this since our plan was just to drive up to the curb, empty the cans into the back of the Inn’s van and take off. But you never know what life will throw at you.
    Dana’s husband owned a collection agency, and they lived in an expensive neighborhood overlooking Bellevue on the other side of the island. We parked a couple of houses down on the same side of the street. I was driving. Doe sat in the seat next to me holding a pair of binoculars, and Rudy and Blair were in the back seat.
    “So how was it when David returned your computers this afternoon?” Doe asked hopefully. “Any plans for a second date?”
    “He had someone else bring them back,” I replied with a distinct edge to my voice.
    “I’m sorry, Julia,” Doe said, glancing my way. “He could just be busy on the case.”
    “Did you call Dana?” Rudy asked.
    “Yes. She said Christine Newall had called at the last minute and asked her to come over to discuss the campaign. So, she asked Trudy to go with her.”
    “Who else knew she’d be gone?” Doe asked.
    “Apparently no one. Clay wasn’t home, and she didn’t talk to anyone else.”
    “And the storm was so bad, I doubt neighbors would have even seen her leave,” Rudy speculated. “I mean if you look around here, most of the homes are angled away from hers,” she said, glancing around.
    “There’s still one light on upstairs and one downstairs,” Doe said, bringing our attention back to the task at hand. She was peering through the front window with the binoculars. “I wonder if that’s just for security, or if someone’s still awake.”
    “That upstairs light is probably the bedroom,” I said.
    A minute later, the front door opened. Dana appeared carrying something in each hand.
    “Wait! There she is,” Doe said.
    “What’s she doing?” Blair whispered, leaning forward.
    Rudy scowled at her. “We don’t need to whisper, Blair. She can’t hear us this far up the street.”
    “But what if she sees us?” Blair asked.
    “She won’t see us, either,” Rudy hissed. “We’re too far away, and the interior of the van is dark.”
    “Shhh! Let’s see what she does,” I said.
    “She’s carrying something,” Doe said, watching her through the binoculars. “It looks like two trash bags.”
    We watched Dana as she scuttled down her front walkway to the curb with a hood pulled up over her head. She glanced up and down the street in a jerky fashion and then dumped what she was carrying in one hand next to the Waste Disposal Company trash can. She looked up and down the street again and then opened the recycling bin and dropped the other bag inside. Then she turned and ran back up the walkway and into the house. The front door closed and a moment later, the downstairs light went out. Half a minute later, a different light went on upstairs.
    “That was weird,” Blair said.
    “Everything about Dana Finkle is weird,” I said.
    We waited another five minutes, listening to the rain drum on the windshield. Finally, the upstairs light went out.
    “Okay, let’s go!” Blair exclaimed.
    “No, we have to wait,” I replied. “We need to give her some time to get to sleep.”
    “And do what, exactly?” Blair complained.
    Blair was leaning over my right shoulder, and I could smell the wine she’d had at dinner.
    “Let’s just give her ten minutes,” I said. “Here, listen to some music.”
    I switched on the radio, turning the sound down low.
    “Oh great!” Blair snarled. “Can’t we at least have some country music?”
    I happened to glance in the rear view mirror. “Wait! There’s a car coming.”
    Quickly, I flipped off the radio and everyone froze. As the headlights approached, I noticed that the car was moving toward us very slowly and had a row of lights on the top.
    “Get down! It’s a police car.”
    Doe and I ducked down, while Rudy and Blair actually bumped heads in the back seat as they scrambled to get out of sight. Blair let