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

What are you doing here?” I was glad I’d stowed the camera in the backpack. I couldn’t afford to lose those pictures. Dad would never forgive me.
    “Evidence,” he said.
    “Evidence? Hand lotion and panties? What’s going on?”
    “Don’t bullshit me, Mercy. You know exactly what’s going on, and God help you if you’ve disturbed the scene.”
    I put my hands on my hips. “A scene you didn’t bother to tape off, but don’t panic. I only disturbed Dixie’s closet and the medicine cabinet.”
    “Yeah, and what else?”
    “Tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll let you know.”
    “Give me that bag.” Chuck advanced on me until we were toe to toe or maybe a better description would’ve been boobs to stomach.
    “Seriously, Dixie needs this stuff.”
    “Fine. Let me take a look.” Chuck went around me and pulled the bag out, totally neglecting to look under the seat. What an amateur. He rifled through Dixie’s underwear and said, “I guess it’s OK. You better hope you didn’t mess anything up. But if you did, I’ll let you make it up to me.” Then he smiled.
    “Don’t hold your breath, Upchuck,” I said.
    “Upchuck? I’ll remember that the next time you need a favor,” said Chuck.
    “Whatever. Can I go now?”
    “Yeah, but we need to talk later. Same with Dixie. Has she said anything to you?”
    “Nope, but I haven’t told her yet.” I put the bag back in my truck and walked around to my driver’s side door.
    “Why not?” he asked.
    “Isn’t it your job to deliver the bad news?” I looked at him over the bed of my truck, a nice, safe distance.
    “You can’t ever make anything easy, can you?”
    “Not if I can help it. See ya.” I got in and backed out the driveway before Chuck thought of a reason to keep me. As I drove off down the block, I saw a uniform running full out towards Gavin’s house with his tie undone and pants unzipped. Somebody was in trouble, and I couldn’t stop smiling. It was like Dad always said, luck has everything to do with it.
    On the way back to my parents’ house, I called Dr. Grace.
    “I have a couple of quick questions. Do you have a minute?” I asked.
    “Shoot.”
    “First, is the toxicology back yet?”
    “Not yet. Next?” Dr. Grace asked.
    “Can you tell me what Gavin was wearing when he was brought in? We haven’t picked up his effects yet.”
    “Hold on. Let me take a look.”
    I waited for five minutes until Dr. Grace came back on the line.
    “He was wearing a blue polar fleece pullover, a white T-shirt, and jeans.”
    “What about shoes?” I asked.
    “Hiking boots.”
    “What color are the soles?” I heard some rustling in the background like Dr. Grace was looking through a bag.
    “Black. Why?”
    “Just curious. Is it possible to tell if hair was ripped out in a struggle?”
    “Yes, if the root is intact, and by the placement of the hair? I have a bad feeling you’re doing something you shouldn’t.”
    “If you’re worried that I messed up some evidence, don’t.”
    “But you saw some.”
    “Could be,” I said, still smiling.
    “So I can expect a call from the detectives any minute.”
    “Oh, yeah.”
    “Good luck and be careful,” he said.
    “Thanks, Doc. You know I will,” I said.

    Back at my parents’ house, The Girls and Dixie were snoozing in the parlor. They’d found more of Dad’s peach wine and drained the bottle. Uncle Morty was nowhere to be found. He was probably out plotting revenge for me ditching him. I went up to the office to put the camera away and noticed the light on Dad’s answering machine blinking like mad, as usual. I sat down with my pen ready, and pressed the button. It was unlikely that Gavin would’ve left anything interesting on an answering machine, but you never knew.
    The first four messages were from Dad’s stable of detectives. The business grew so much in the first ten years, he had three detectives working for him. Denny Elliot and Suzette Montag worked insurance