Read Online Captive Justice: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (A Jake & Annie Lincoln Thriller Book 4) by Rayven T. Hill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rayven T. Hill
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and tucked it in his pocket. “Any other witnesses?”
“Nope. Not that we know of.”
“I’d better go see him. Do you have anything else for me before I go?”
Jameson shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it. I’ll give you a call if we find anything that appears real important.”
“All right,” Hank said, as he turned to leave. “And get that forensics report to me ASAP.”
Chapter 17
Thursday, September 1st, 8:23 AM
JAKE SET HIS coffee cup down and picked up his ringing cell phone. The caller ID showed it was Hank.
“Jake here.”
“Jake, I have some disturbing news.” There was silence on the line a moment, then, “Mrs. Gould’s body was found along County Road 10 early this morning.”
Jake jumped to his feet and glanced at Annie. She was leaning with her back to the counter, watching him and frowning. “What is it?” she asked.
Jake put the phone on speaker. “It’s Mrs. Gould. Dead.”
Hank continued, “She was strangled with a garrote sometime last evening. A farmer discovered her body. I’m on my way to interview him now.”
Annie sat and stared open-mouthed at the phone.
“Then I need to break the news to Dr. Gould,” Hank said. “I’ll call you later, but I wanted to fill you in.”
Jake hung up the phone and sat at the table. He dropped his head into his hands, feeling physically sick, feeling responsible for her death. He’d recommended Dr. Gould call the police and now . . . He’d trusted the kidnapper and he was certain Linda Gould would’ve been set free as long as the money was delivered.
Matty clumped down the steps from upstairs and in a moment, appeared in the kitchen. He stopped short and looked at his mother, then his father. “Is something wrong?”
Jake looked up and forced a grin.
“Just . . . a setback on a case we’re working on,” Annie said.
Matty frowned slightly and cocked his head. “You guys look upset.”
Annie smiled tightly as she stood and retrieved a paper bag from the counter. “Here’s your lunch. You’d better be getting to school.”
Matty took his lunch and turned a cheek to receive his obligatory kiss. He took a worried look at his father before leaving the kitchen. “I hope everything turns out ok,” he called back over his shoulder.
Annie sat back down and dropped her hand onto Jake’s. “I know you’re blaming yourself, but it’s not your fault.”
Jake sat back and sighed. “I know . . . but there was no reason to kill her. He got his money.”
Annie nodded. “He didn’t need a reason. He’s a killer and that’s what killers do.”
~~*~~
HANK SQUINTED at the mailbox, touched the brake and swung the Chevy into the long drive leading to the farmhouse.
Split-rail fences lined either side of the drive, half a dozen cattle grazed contentedly off to his right, and as Hank drew closer, a rooster strutted his stuff behind a chicken wire enclosure.
Gravel crunched as he pulled his vehicle to a stop beside an old pickup truck. He climbed out, sniffed the faint scent of manure and made his way to the back door of the ancient dwelling.
His knock was answered by a pleasant looking woman, probably approaching seventy, but as robust as a middle-ager. Probably from fresh air and exercise, Hank thought. Something he could use a little more of.
The woman smiled, raised her brows and waited for Hank to speak.
“I’m Detective Hank Corning,” he said. “Is Trenton Scott available?”
“Sure is. Wipe your feet there and come on in to the kitchen. He’s waiting to see you.”
Hank did as he was told and stepped inside. The aroma of something newly baked was in the air, mingling with the scent of freshly picked flowers.
“The police are here to see you,” the woman said.
Hank glanced toward the focus of the woman’s words. A solid kitchen table took up one end of the large room. A breeze from an open window fluttered the checkered tablecloth, held in place by an array
“Nope. Not that we know of.”
“I’d better go see him. Do you have anything else for me before I go?”
Jameson shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it. I’ll give you a call if we find anything that appears real important.”
“All right,” Hank said, as he turned to leave. “And get that forensics report to me ASAP.”
Chapter 17
Thursday, September 1st, 8:23 AM
JAKE SET HIS coffee cup down and picked up his ringing cell phone. The caller ID showed it was Hank.
“Jake here.”
“Jake, I have some disturbing news.” There was silence on the line a moment, then, “Mrs. Gould’s body was found along County Road 10 early this morning.”
Jake jumped to his feet and glanced at Annie. She was leaning with her back to the counter, watching him and frowning. “What is it?” she asked.
Jake put the phone on speaker. “It’s Mrs. Gould. Dead.”
Hank continued, “She was strangled with a garrote sometime last evening. A farmer discovered her body. I’m on my way to interview him now.”
Annie sat and stared open-mouthed at the phone.
“Then I need to break the news to Dr. Gould,” Hank said. “I’ll call you later, but I wanted to fill you in.”
Jake hung up the phone and sat at the table. He dropped his head into his hands, feeling physically sick, feeling responsible for her death. He’d recommended Dr. Gould call the police and now . . . He’d trusted the kidnapper and he was certain Linda Gould would’ve been set free as long as the money was delivered.
Matty clumped down the steps from upstairs and in a moment, appeared in the kitchen. He stopped short and looked at his mother, then his father. “Is something wrong?”
Jake looked up and forced a grin.
“Just . . . a setback on a case we’re working on,” Annie said.
Matty frowned slightly and cocked his head. “You guys look upset.”
Annie smiled tightly as she stood and retrieved a paper bag from the counter. “Here’s your lunch. You’d better be getting to school.”
Matty took his lunch and turned a cheek to receive his obligatory kiss. He took a worried look at his father before leaving the kitchen. “I hope everything turns out ok,” he called back over his shoulder.
Annie sat back down and dropped her hand onto Jake’s. “I know you’re blaming yourself, but it’s not your fault.”
Jake sat back and sighed. “I know . . . but there was no reason to kill her. He got his money.”
Annie nodded. “He didn’t need a reason. He’s a killer and that’s what killers do.”
~~*~~
HANK SQUINTED at the mailbox, touched the brake and swung the Chevy into the long drive leading to the farmhouse.
Split-rail fences lined either side of the drive, half a dozen cattle grazed contentedly off to his right, and as Hank drew closer, a rooster strutted his stuff behind a chicken wire enclosure.
Gravel crunched as he pulled his vehicle to a stop beside an old pickup truck. He climbed out, sniffed the faint scent of manure and made his way to the back door of the ancient dwelling.
His knock was answered by a pleasant looking woman, probably approaching seventy, but as robust as a middle-ager. Probably from fresh air and exercise, Hank thought. Something he could use a little more of.
The woman smiled, raised her brows and waited for Hank to speak.
“I’m Detective Hank Corning,” he said. “Is Trenton Scott available?”
“Sure is. Wipe your feet there and come on in to the kitchen. He’s waiting to see you.”
Hank did as he was told and stepped inside. The aroma of something newly baked was in the air, mingling with the scent of freshly picked flowers.
“The police are here to see you,” the woman said.
Hank glanced toward the focus of the woman’s words. A solid kitchen table took up one end of the large room. A breeze from an open window fluttered the checkered tablecloth, held in place by an array
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