Read Online Cold Blood by Theresa Monsour - Free Book Online

suspicious smells. She flicked on the flashlight and ran the beam around the garage. No car. No trunk, either. A snowmobile sitting on a small trailer took up half the two-car garage. Toolshanging from the walls. Kids’ bikes and rakes pushed against the side. She shined her light overhead. A plastic snowman and a set of reindeer tucked into the rafters. A bunch of hockey sticks. Couple of shovels. She turned off the flashlight, stuffed it in her purse and went back outside.
    Both the garage and the house needed a coat of latex; white paint was flaking off in spots. Murphy could sympathize; her boat needed a paint job. She walked onto the deck and peeked through the sliding glass doors. No signs of movement. She knocked on the back door and listened. No response.
    A big voice from next door: “They went duck hunting.”
    Murphy turned to her left; a man was standing on his deck looking over the fence at her. He’d returned from his own hunting trip. He was dressed in camouflage and had an armload of shotguns in camouflage cases. He was fat and all the green he was wearing and carrying made him look like an army tank.
    â€œHow’d you make out?” Murphy asked.
    â€œGot our limit.” Three boys in camouflage came up behind him on the deck, their arms empty. He looked at them as he struggled to open the back door. “You lazy turds. Go help your mother unload the car.”
    â€œI gotta pee,” said the littlest.
    â€œYou can hold it. Go help your mother.” The three boys turned around and stepped off the deck.
    â€œNo school today?” Murphy asked.
    â€œKids have been off since Thursday. Teachers’ convention. They should have been back in school today but I let them play hooky so we could hunt longer.”
    â€œWhen did Chad leave for hunting?” Murphy asked.
    The man pushed open his back door. Two big dogs ran up the deck steps and shot through the door ahead of him. “He was having a hard time getting off work. Said he wasn’t leaving until after work Friday. Was gonna swing by his ex’s house and pick up his boys and go.”
    â€œKnow when they’re due back?”
    â€œHe was talking about taking today off, like we did. Send them back to school tomorrow.” The man set his guns down against the side of the house and looked at her. “You the new girlfriend?”
    â€œNo.”
    He smiled. “Too bad. Chad’s a good egg. Deserves a babe.” His wife came up behind him, arms loaded with gear. She was as big as he was and was also dressed in camo. She pushed past her husband to get into the house.
    â€œKnow where they were hunting?” Murphy asked.
    â€œChad’s buddy has got a cabin. Not sure exactly where. You social services or what?”
    Murphy heard barking from inside the man’s house, and then his wife: “Fred! Get these filthy animals out of here!”
    â€œGotta go,” he said. He picked up his guns and walked through the door.
    Â 
    MURPHY went to the front of the Pederson house, stood on the porch, peered through a couple of the windows. An elderly voice: “Nobody home. Went duck hunting.” Then a hacking cough. Murphy turned and saw Pederson’s neighbor on the other side of the fence. The elderly black woman was wrapped in a heavy sweater and sitting on a porch swing. In her lap was a white poodle dressed in a matching sweater. Murphy swore to herself she’d never own a dog that wore sweaters.
    She smiled as she walked up the old woman’s steps. “Hello.”
    â€œYou’re a cop,” said the woman. She coughed again. Her skin was as gray as her hair. She had a cigarette between her boney fingers and was holding it away from her so the ash wouldn’t drop on the dog. She wore red lipstick; it was smeared all over the cigarette butt. “Paris Murphy, right?”
    â€œYeah. Do I know you?”
    â€œMrs. McDonough. Recognized you from your momand