Read Online A Good Man Gone (Mercy Watts Mysteries) by A.W. Hartoin - Free Book Online Page A

spotted some tiny fibers snagged on the textured paint. They were short and dark blue. About five inches above the fibers were three hairs caught on the rough paint. The hairs were between two and three inches long. One was gray and the other two were dark brown. They matched Gavin’s shaggy head. The police crime scene team would probably find skin cells. A swell of fear began in my stomach. That was where it happened. Gavin didn’t die in that exact spot, but it was where the crime occurred.
    I stood up and took a deep breath. I figured it out. The thought should’ve made me feel better, but instead it made me feel worse. The crime happened in Gavin’s own home, his safe place. What if Dixie had been there? I couldn’t think about it. I wouldn’t. Not now. Later. Much later.
    My backpack vibrated nonstop against my hip and I started thinking that maybe it was Mom or Dr. Grace wanting to tell me the murder had been solved, go home, and take a nap. So I answered and got a woman asking about my rates and travel stipend requirements. I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about and hung up. My phone immediately began to vibrate again. For crying out loud.
    I’d been in Gavin’s house for a half hour, and it was time to get out before someone finally noticed me. I shot the wall as closeup as I could. I wanted to take some hair and fiber evidence, but let’s face it, I wouldn’t know what to do with it if I had. Plus, taking it had the distinct disadvantage of being a criminal offense, tampering with evidence or something. I left the fibers alone and took a last look. On top of the filing cabinet was Gavin’s cell phone. I pulled up the last twelve numbers Gavin dialed with my pen. Three were Dad’s office, and the rest I didn’t recognize. I put the numbers into the iPad and went to the bedroom to pack Dixie’s favorite outfits and toiletries. On the way out, I checked the answering machine for the personal line. No tape. My guy took no chances.
    The vibrating was getting ridiculous. I couldn’t take it anymore and answered, praying it was Mom or Morty. Heck. I’d even take Chuck. Instead, all I got was weird sucking noises and moaning for my trouble.
    “That’s it,” I said and turned the phone off. Mom would just have to leave a message.
    I locked the side door, put Dixie’s bags in my passenger seat and my backpack on the floor. A couple of cars pulled up in front of the house behind me. Male voices came to my ears and I said a quiet, “Shit.” I shoved the backpack under the seat as far as it would go.
    “Where the hell are the uniforms?”
    Shoes crunched on leaves as I crawled in the passenger door and tried to slither across the seat. I don’t know why I bothered. It’s not like my rear is easy to miss.
    “Imagine finding you here. I knew I should’ve skipped lunch,” said my cousin Chuck.
    I peeked over my seat back and saw Chuck standing at the end of my truck with his notebook and pen ready. No iPad for him. Chuck liked to think he was a throwback to the golden age of detectives, some sort of Sam Spade in bootcut jeans. Whatever. Detective Nazir and some crime science team members came up the walk behind him. Nazir waved at me and smiled. I responded in kind. One of the crime science guys flipped open his phone and the other one looked and began chortling. The rest of the team stopped and watched me from a distance. They smiled and whispered to each other. It was weird even for me. Chuck glanced back at them and he wasn’t smiling.
    He came around the truck and watched as I slithered out and tried to look innocent.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked.
    “I could ask you the same thing.”
    “What are you doing here?”
    “Aren’t we cranky today? I’m picking up some clothes and stuff for Dixie, if you must know,” I said.
    “You’ll have to give me that bag.” Chuck didn’t smile at me and he usually did. The kind of smile that makes you feel oily.
    “Why? What for?