Read Online exposed (Twisted Cedar Mysteries Book 3) by CJ Carmichael - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: CJ Carmichael
Tags: General Fiction
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people in view were two volunteers manning a make-shift table on the porch.
From their expressions it was instantly clear that no good news was forthcoming.
Dougal paused, imagining the cottage as it must have appeared to a twenty-two year old Edward Lachlan back in May of 1972. The structure, itself, hadn’t changed since then.
What had Ed’s intentions been, in that fatal moment before he met his birth mother?
Had he expected her to welcome him with open arms? And would things have ended differently if she had?
Shaking off his introspections, Dougal identified himself to the volunteers, who grim-faced confirmed the lack of progress in locating Chester or any clues to his whereabouts.
Inside, Dougal found Deputy Duane Carter writing reports at the kitchen table. With his thin, muscular runner’s body, Duane bordered on anorexic, in Dougal’s opinion. According to Charlotte, who devoured the local paper religiously each Wednesday, Duane had placed third in his age group in the Dog Days of August Marathon two weeks ago.
Three cheers for Duane.
“So. How’s it going?”
Duane glanced up at him. “No sign of Chester, or his bike, yet. But we’re going to keep looking until sun-fall.”
“I won’t get in your way. Just need a shower and to pack a few things.”
Fifteen minutes later Dougal was out the door. As he walked toward his vehicle he was remembering the last time Chester had been at the cottage, less than two weeks ago. Dougal had invited Charlotte and the twins for an end-of-the-summer barbeque, the night before the first day of school.
Cory had been a chatter-box, telling them all about her experiences at Wolf Creek Camp. Both the twins seemed to love the place, though Chester, as per usual, hadn’t talked about it much.
The only time Dougal had seen Chester’s face light up was when he asked Dougal about his experiences playing high school football with his dad. He clearly had his father on a pedestal and Dougal, though not normally one to sugar-coat the truth, had taken pains to make Kyle out to be the hero in every story.
The truth was, Kyle had been a talented quarterback, but he would have been even better if he hadn’t tried to make himself the star of every play.
But that was Kyle. The golden-haired, blue-eyed charmer was used to having life go his way. Dougal had always expected this character flaw would eventually land him in trouble. But he’d never guessed his old football buddy would go so far as to bury his wife’s body in order to escape retribution for what had, in all likelihood, been an accidental death.
On the day of the barbecue, Dougal had wondered if the twins would ask about the spot where he’d found their mother’s body. They hadn’t. But when they were ready, he would show them. Hopefully the Shasta daisies he’d planted there would still be blooming.
* * *
Charlotte had thought cleaning out her closet would help make the time pass more quickly, but she couldn’t focus on even this simple task for more than five minutes at a time. The twins’ bedroom across the hallway kept drawing her.
The crime scene techs had finished with the room, but she was loath to clean up the residue of fingerprint powder. She found she wanted to touch nothing, but just stand in the doorway and run through the memories she had of Chester.
The kids had been under her care for less than two months—and at least three weeks of that time they’d spent at summer camp. Yet, already they felt like hers. Their imprint on this room was unmistakable. She’d given them permission to put three posters each on the wall. Chester’s were all from the 49ers, of course. His father had taken him to a game once, and he still talked about the experience.
Where was he now? Was he okay? Would he ever get to go to another football game?
With each question, another layer of pain seemed to weigh down her heart. Charlotte pressed her knuckles into her teeth, welcoming the distraction of physical
From their expressions it was instantly clear that no good news was forthcoming.
Dougal paused, imagining the cottage as it must have appeared to a twenty-two year old Edward Lachlan back in May of 1972. The structure, itself, hadn’t changed since then.
What had Ed’s intentions been, in that fatal moment before he met his birth mother?
Had he expected her to welcome him with open arms? And would things have ended differently if she had?
Shaking off his introspections, Dougal identified himself to the volunteers, who grim-faced confirmed the lack of progress in locating Chester or any clues to his whereabouts.
Inside, Dougal found Deputy Duane Carter writing reports at the kitchen table. With his thin, muscular runner’s body, Duane bordered on anorexic, in Dougal’s opinion. According to Charlotte, who devoured the local paper religiously each Wednesday, Duane had placed third in his age group in the Dog Days of August Marathon two weeks ago.
Three cheers for Duane.
“So. How’s it going?”
Duane glanced up at him. “No sign of Chester, or his bike, yet. But we’re going to keep looking until sun-fall.”
“I won’t get in your way. Just need a shower and to pack a few things.”
Fifteen minutes later Dougal was out the door. As he walked toward his vehicle he was remembering the last time Chester had been at the cottage, less than two weeks ago. Dougal had invited Charlotte and the twins for an end-of-the-summer barbeque, the night before the first day of school.
Cory had been a chatter-box, telling them all about her experiences at Wolf Creek Camp. Both the twins seemed to love the place, though Chester, as per usual, hadn’t talked about it much.
The only time Dougal had seen Chester’s face light up was when he asked Dougal about his experiences playing high school football with his dad. He clearly had his father on a pedestal and Dougal, though not normally one to sugar-coat the truth, had taken pains to make Kyle out to be the hero in every story.
The truth was, Kyle had been a talented quarterback, but he would have been even better if he hadn’t tried to make himself the star of every play.
But that was Kyle. The golden-haired, blue-eyed charmer was used to having life go his way. Dougal had always expected this character flaw would eventually land him in trouble. But he’d never guessed his old football buddy would go so far as to bury his wife’s body in order to escape retribution for what had, in all likelihood, been an accidental death.
On the day of the barbecue, Dougal had wondered if the twins would ask about the spot where he’d found their mother’s body. They hadn’t. But when they were ready, he would show them. Hopefully the Shasta daisies he’d planted there would still be blooming.
* * *
Charlotte had thought cleaning out her closet would help make the time pass more quickly, but she couldn’t focus on even this simple task for more than five minutes at a time. The twins’ bedroom across the hallway kept drawing her.
The crime scene techs had finished with the room, but she was loath to clean up the residue of fingerprint powder. She found she wanted to touch nothing, but just stand in the doorway and run through the memories she had of Chester.
The kids had been under her care for less than two months—and at least three weeks of that time they’d spent at summer camp. Yet, already they felt like hers. Their imprint on this room was unmistakable. She’d given them permission to put three posters each on the wall. Chester’s were all from the 49ers, of course. His father had taken him to a game once, and he still talked about the experience.
Where was he now? Was he okay? Would he ever get to go to another football game?
With each question, another layer of pain seemed to weigh down her heart. Charlotte pressed her knuckles into her teeth, welcoming the distraction of physical
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