Read Online Don't Go Home by Carolyn Hart - Free Book Online

illuminated the walk.
    Billy Cameron was in the lead. He had not taken time to change clothes. Instead of his usual short-sleeved white shirt and dress slacks, he wore a blue polo, jeans, and sneakers. Close behind followed two officers, dark-haired, stocky Lou Pirelli and thin, angular Hyla Harrison. Lou was in casual dress. Annie didn’t know if Hyla had also been summoned from home. No matter, she was trim in her uniform: khaki blouse with her name tag—Officer H. Harrison—khaki trousers, black shoes. Her reddish-brown hair was drawn back in a ponytail, her pale, freckled face impassive, but her eyes moved back and forth, noting the partially open sliding door marred by crisscrossing black tape, the yellow drape that wavered in the breeze. Mavis Cameron and three patrolmen waited a few feet from the patio. Mavis carried a rectangular black plastic evidence case.
    Billy took in the patio at a glance, the stricken young woman in the webbed patio chair, Annie standing at her side, the partially open door with the splotch of tape, the room, the drape that blocked a view of the interior. Careful not to touch any surface, Billy edged past the drape. He was back in only a moment. Death confirmed. Murder apparent. He and his officers could secure the perimeter of the crime scene, but investigation had to await the arrival of the medical examiner and an official confirmation of death. He glanced at Hyla Harrison. “Take a quick look. Tell me if anything indicates robbery.”
    Hyla slipped into the room.
    Billy walked to Rae’s chair. “Mrs. Griffith?” His tone was gentle. “I’m Police Chief Billy Cameron.”
    Rae looked up, her lips trembling. “Someone killed Alex. I found him . . .”
    Oyster shells crackled. Doc Burford loomed up out of the dusk, unkempt shaggy white hair, probably not combed since morning, white long-sleeved shirt open at the throat, a smear of mustard near the third button likely a reminder of a hot dog lunch grabbed in the hospital cafeteria, wrinkled black trousers dulled with age, thick-soled running shoes. He was not only chief of hospital, he also served as the island medical examiner. His heavy face was lined by years of hard work, unremitting effort to save lives. He had an abiding hatred for murder and lives cut short. Bristly gray brows drawn down in a tight frown, he looked only at Billy.
    Billy turned a thumb toward the partially open sliding door. “Inside, Doc.”
    After a nod from Billy, Mavis followed Doc Burford, careful not to touch any surface.
    Rae looked even more stricken. She kept her gaze away from the entrance to the suite.
    Rapid footsteps sounded. Annie looked toward the walk.
    â€œHey, what’s going on?” The dark-haired TV reporter strode up to the patio, thrust a mic toward Billy. “We heard sirens.” Marian Kenyon was right behind her.
    Billy gave the reporter a cold stare. “Crime scene. You are requested to remain on the terrace.”
    Marian Kenyon peered around the taller woman. “Chief?”
    â€œNo press now. Wait on the terrace. We’ll brief you when we can.” Billy nodded toward Lou Pirelli, who moved purposefully toward the TV reporter and Marian.
    Rae’s head turned. She frowned at Marian.
    Hyla stepped out onto the patio. “No evidence of a search. Aman’s billfold on the dresser, along with coins and cell phone. Woman’s purse on the hall table. Mavis will check to see if the billfold belongs to the deceased and the purse to his widow.”
    â€œWho’s dead?” the TV reporter shouted as she backpedaled away from Lou.
    Billy ignored the question, spoke quietly to Rae. “Mrs. Griffith, as soon as we secure the scene, I’ll be with you.” He turned to Annie, gestured toward the terrace. “Has an announcement been made?”
    â€œNot yet.”
    Billy walked to the path. “Officers Harrison and Pirelli will come with