Read Online A Deadly Cliche by Ellery Adams - Free Book Online Page A

the community. She no longer jetted around the world, dated famous bachelors, or dressed in haute couture. Therefore, she was no longer interesting to the press, but her name was still well known. People could find Olivia Limoges if they looked hard enough.
    “I could risk the money,” she said to Haviland, who was giving her his full attention. “That’s not a problem. I just don’t want to be made a fool of.”
    Once again, she turned back to the computer. She did a Google search for RB of Wilmington, North Carolina, but found nothing. However, when she typed the address into the search box, she was directed to a Yellow Page listing. RB’s address was actually a mailbox located in a UPS store.
    “That tells me nothing!” she banged on the keyboard in frustration. Downing the rest of her drink, she stood behind her desk chair and grabbed the cushion until her knuckles turned white. “What can I do?”
    The poodle grunted and turned in circles by the door. He was ready to leave and his mistress’s edginess was wearing on him.
    Noting Haviland’s discomfort, Olivia grabbed the letter, shoved it back into the envelope, and turned off the office lights. “There’s only one person who can advise me about this enigma. Come along, Captain. Off to the police station.”
    When they pulled into the police station parking lot, Haviland yipped in excitement. He was very fond of Greta, Oyster Bay’s attractive canine officer. The two dogs had met on several occasions and had always exchanged dignified but affectionate sniffs, nose rubs, and tail wags. Olivia sensed that Haviland had been gravely disappointed when they didn’t run into Greta on Saturday, as she and her fellow officer were out on patrol.
    There was no sign of Greta in the police department’s lobby and the female officer manning the reception desk had her hands full with a truculent tourist. The furious man waved a parking ticket while releasing a torrent of insults. Though the officer did her best to remain composed, it was clear that she wouldn’t stay calm much longer.
    Suddenly, the red-faced man tore the ticket into tiny pieces and threw them on the counter, jabbing his index finger inches away from the woman’s face. The officer’s eyes blazed with indignation. She picked up her phone and requested backup. Taking advantage of the distraction, Olivia opened the door to a hallway. She and Haviland slipped inside and hurried past office doors until they reached the one bearing Sawyer Rawlings’ name in brass.
    Olivia knocked and waited.
    “This had better be good,” Rawlings growled from within. When he saw Olivia and Haviland, a mixture of surprise and delight replaced his sullen expression.
    “Don’t get up,” Olivia said as Rawlings moved to stand. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I know the local press has gotten wind of your case and you must be very busy.”
    “I wish there was something for me to be busy doing .” Rawlings was obviously irked. “We still have no ID for our victim and no matching dental records either. I’m going to have to ask for the public’s help and I can’t tell you how many fruitcakes will call or drop by the second the television announcement runs.” He waved at the window. “Everyone with a Superman complex will line up in the lobby.”
    Without waiting to be asked, Olivia sat in one of the two chairs facing the chief’s tidy desk. “I take it the medical examiner’s report provided no additional clues.”
    “Only that our victim wasn’t drugged.” Rawlings picked up a rubber band and wound it around his thumb and index finger. “There was duct tape residue on his neck, implying that a bag was taped over his head long enough to cause him to lose consciousness. Before burying the victim in the sand, the killer tried to remove all signs of the tape but missed a few pieces.”
    Olivia tried to push away the picture forming in her mind of a man fighting desperately to breathe, his lips drawing in plastic