Read Online Arson Takes a Dare: The Third Marisa Adair Mystery Adventure (Marisa Adair Mysteries Book 3) by Jada Ryker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jada Ryker
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hand. “She heard the police car, ran to change into her widow’s weeds, and sniffed an onion to bring on the fake tears.”
Mae Rue started to close the heavy front door. “It’s bad enough you hound me about Jeremy’s death, as if you could seriously think that I shot my husband with his own gun in his man-cave cabin on the far edge of the farm. Now, you want to use this flimsy UFO pretext to poke around the land.”
A heavy boot jammed into the narrowing space between the door and the frame. “Deputy Blackburn.” She glared at the figure towering next to the sheriff like a creature hovering over its mad scientist creator. “Remove your foot from my door before I fetch the axe and remove it from your ankle.”
Sheriff Norton was authoritative. “Mrs. Brooks, we have to check the area around the pond. If a small aircraft crashed, then people could be hurt.”
Mae Rue stiffened in disbelief. “I didn’t hear or see a thing. You want to look for evidence I’m guilty, without a search warrant. If you don’t leave, I’ll call an attorney. I’ll also file a civil lawsuit against you and the Sheriff’s Department for trespassing and harassment.”
Mae Rae patted her dress. Damn it, my cell phone’s in my purse, she thought. It’s difficult to make a grand gesture if I have to scurry to the kitchen for it.
Sheriff Norton leaned into the narrow opening. “Most of the townspeople think you’re a murderer. Do you really want the rest of them to turn against you because you can’t show even a small amount of compassion for possible accident victims on your dead husband’s land?” His dark brown eyes glittered. “If there’s a trial, this town will be the source of the jury pool.”
Mae Rue’s thoughts raced. What if people are lying in a field, hurt? He’s already convinced I’m guilty of killing my husband. Letting him check the property is not going to change his mind one way or the other. And he won’t find anything to hurt me.
“Sheriff, you and your minion wait while I change. I’ll take you to the pond.” As she closed the door, Mae Rue heard the deputy ask his boss: “What’s a minion? Is that a cartoon character?”
Part Two
The trio rounded the house, their boots sinking in the soft drifts of snow. Sheriff Norton stopped abruptly, his deputy plowing into him like a stocky Guernsey steer running into a thoroughbred stallion. “What the hell?” The sheriff pivoted toward Mae Rue, his face as frozen as the icicles hanging from the broken eaves of the house.
“Snowmen?” Mae Rue rubbed her eyes with her gloved fingers. When she opened them, the snowmen were still there. “Where did they come from?”
Her slim figure thickened by the heavy camouflage-patterned coat and fur-lined pants, Mae Rae stared at the quiet tableau. Heaving in a breath of arctic air, she circled warily around the largest, adult-sized statue, fashioned of three balls of snow increasing in size from top to bottom. Her dead husband’s furry hat slid to one side of her head, the ear flaps moving in the cold wind as she wove between the two child-sized snow creatures.
Deputy Blackburn snorted, streams of vapor filling the cold air in front of his disbelieving face. “A grieving widow making snowmen? Did you have your so-called farmhand Coy Mitchell help you? Or do you keep him in your bedroom for other duties?”
Enraged, Mae Rae swung at the smug oxen features of the deputy. A hand caught her wrist. She turned on the sheriff. “Let go! He deserves a thrashing.”
Sheriff Norton’s square jaw tightened. “No. If you hit him, then I’ll have to arrest you.” His teeth gleamed against his brown-sugar skin in a rare smile, a dimple making an irreverent appearance in his stubble-roughened cheek. “He might deserve it, but not here and not now.” He turned his head. “Blackie, Mitchell’s truck is gone and there aren’t any tracks. He must have left before the snow started falling early this
Mae Rue started to close the heavy front door. “It’s bad enough you hound me about Jeremy’s death, as if you could seriously think that I shot my husband with his own gun in his man-cave cabin on the far edge of the farm. Now, you want to use this flimsy UFO pretext to poke around the land.”
A heavy boot jammed into the narrowing space between the door and the frame. “Deputy Blackburn.” She glared at the figure towering next to the sheriff like a creature hovering over its mad scientist creator. “Remove your foot from my door before I fetch the axe and remove it from your ankle.”
Sheriff Norton was authoritative. “Mrs. Brooks, we have to check the area around the pond. If a small aircraft crashed, then people could be hurt.”
Mae Rue stiffened in disbelief. “I didn’t hear or see a thing. You want to look for evidence I’m guilty, without a search warrant. If you don’t leave, I’ll call an attorney. I’ll also file a civil lawsuit against you and the Sheriff’s Department for trespassing and harassment.”
Mae Rae patted her dress. Damn it, my cell phone’s in my purse, she thought. It’s difficult to make a grand gesture if I have to scurry to the kitchen for it.
Sheriff Norton leaned into the narrow opening. “Most of the townspeople think you’re a murderer. Do you really want the rest of them to turn against you because you can’t show even a small amount of compassion for possible accident victims on your dead husband’s land?” His dark brown eyes glittered. “If there’s a trial, this town will be the source of the jury pool.”
Mae Rue’s thoughts raced. What if people are lying in a field, hurt? He’s already convinced I’m guilty of killing my husband. Letting him check the property is not going to change his mind one way or the other. And he won’t find anything to hurt me.
“Sheriff, you and your minion wait while I change. I’ll take you to the pond.” As she closed the door, Mae Rue heard the deputy ask his boss: “What’s a minion? Is that a cartoon character?”
Part Two
The trio rounded the house, their boots sinking in the soft drifts of snow. Sheriff Norton stopped abruptly, his deputy plowing into him like a stocky Guernsey steer running into a thoroughbred stallion. “What the hell?” The sheriff pivoted toward Mae Rue, his face as frozen as the icicles hanging from the broken eaves of the house.
“Snowmen?” Mae Rue rubbed her eyes with her gloved fingers. When she opened them, the snowmen were still there. “Where did they come from?”
Her slim figure thickened by the heavy camouflage-patterned coat and fur-lined pants, Mae Rae stared at the quiet tableau. Heaving in a breath of arctic air, she circled warily around the largest, adult-sized statue, fashioned of three balls of snow increasing in size from top to bottom. Her dead husband’s furry hat slid to one side of her head, the ear flaps moving in the cold wind as she wove between the two child-sized snow creatures.
Deputy Blackburn snorted, streams of vapor filling the cold air in front of his disbelieving face. “A grieving widow making snowmen? Did you have your so-called farmhand Coy Mitchell help you? Or do you keep him in your bedroom for other duties?”
Enraged, Mae Rae swung at the smug oxen features of the deputy. A hand caught her wrist. She turned on the sheriff. “Let go! He deserves a thrashing.”
Sheriff Norton’s square jaw tightened. “No. If you hit him, then I’ll have to arrest you.” His teeth gleamed against his brown-sugar skin in a rare smile, a dimple making an irreverent appearance in his stubble-roughened cheek. “He might deserve it, but not here and not now.” He turned his head. “Blackie, Mitchell’s truck is gone and there aren’t any tracks. He must have left before the snow started falling early this
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