Read Online Cold Turkey by Shelley Freydont - Free Book Online

worry about them suing. Not if they want local investors.”
    “I suppose I should be relieved. But we still have a problem with a gun club within the town limits.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Is that wishful thinking? Do you think they won’t be able to get the investors?”
    “Oh, I think they can, but there will never be a gun club.”
    Liv rubbed her face. “I’m not following you.” Chaz stood suddenly; his desk chair rolled back and came to rest on a stack of paper. He went to stand by the window, came back to the computer. The room seemed to shrink as if it were too small for him.
    “Something just didn’t feel right about these guys.”
    Liv stilled. This was not the laid-back laissez-faire man she knew. This was a prowling newshound.
    “And were you right?”
    He leaned over the desk, braced on one hand. “Lyle Clegg.” He stepped away and Liv saw another article, this one with an accompanying photograph. “Nine years ago. Miami. A big resort. Developers, investors. Long delays.” He clicked to another page. “Sausalito, six years ago. Yacht club and hotel. Big delays. In the meantime, construction starts in Miami. Sausalito went belly-up. Stuff happened. The investors were left high and dry. Soon after that, construction on the Miami project came to a screeching halt. I remember the story. A friend of mine pulled the follow-up story. That’s why I remembered it.”
    “Same company?”
    “Same players, an alias here or there, a little fresh blood—change the company name, and voila. Typical shell game tactics. Move the money. Close down shop. Start up with a different name. But a little research . . .” He shrugged.
    “And they didn’t send them to jail?”
    “Like I said, stuff happens. Enterprises go belly-up all the time, and not always as a scam. Nothing could be proved against them . . . yet. The investors lost, and they made a bundle by borrowing from Peter to pay Paul. Probably could have kept it up longer if the economy hadn’t tanked.”
    “And you think they’re planning the same thing here?”
    “I’m working on it.”
    “So where have they been during the last six years?”
    “I haven’t gotten that far, but my guess? In Canada.”
    “Home of Max and Eileen Bonhoff. Wow.” Liv moved closer to the screen, squinted at the fuzzy head shot of Lyle Clegg. Another click and the photo enlarged and she was staring at a younger, thinner . . .
    “It’s Pudge.” She sat back in her chair. “Wow. Just wow. Does Bill know?”
    “Possibly. I doubt if he’s going by Clegg anymore, though, and I didn’t have time to look more closely before you came barreling out of the bar. Jeez, I thought you had more sense.”
    “They couldn’t see me. Well, maybe Eric could, but I don’t think he was paying attention. But this would make perfect sense. I knew something was up when I saw that look. I can’t tell you how many times clients give themselves away just by their expressions and body language. You can tell when they’re about to stiff you, cancel, postpone, and when there are ulterior motives involved.”
    “And this leads to murder how?”
    “Well, think about it. It makes more sense if one of them killed Max, rather than Henny or a nearsighted hunter.”
    “And why would they do that?”
    “I don’t know. A falling-out among thieves.”
    “We’re not sure they’re card-carrying thieves yet. I need to do more research.”
    “Maybe Max found out it was a scam.”
    “And what? He agrees to meet Lyle or whoever at a specified place in the woods, which happens to be on private land in the middle of three simultaneous races?”
    Liv chewed on her bottom lip. “They would have to have figured out the meeting place in advance. Maybe they were both in on it and planned to screw the other two, and do it during the race because it was the only time they could get away from the others?”
    “Possible, but why not just wait until they were back wherever they’re working out