Read Online Harmful Intent: A Veronica "Ronnie" Ingels/Dawson Hughes Novel by Nike N. Chillemi - Free Book Online
Authors: Nike N. Chillemi
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not jump the gun."
"You wouldn't have to try any dresses on. I don't want to bring you bad luck."
She took my hand in hers. "I don't believe in luck neither. I'll go with you, Ronnie, if it means that much to you."
*****
Abilene, TX
Day Six, Morning
Deputy Sergeant Dawson Hughes
If I was hog-tied and dragged in, I still wouldn't drink a cup of Starbuck's coffee. I carried my paper-cup from Mad Merv Java into the station house. Now this was coffee. Hand blended Hawaiian Kona roasted in small batches with a splash of half 'n half. Complex flavor, heady aroma, medium-bodied, slightly acidic.
I stopped by the bullpen and spoke to Deputy Dixie Watts, animated strawberry-blond, peaches and cream complexion, now six months pregnant. "How're you doin' with the leadership series roster and registration forms?"
She swiveled her chair to face me and crossed her arms over her belly. "Still workin' on 'em. But I can tell you this, Ava Chandler attended those lectures. According to the roster, she was there Friday evenin', then Saturday for both sessions, as well as the Sunday brunch and session followin' it."
"It gets curiouser and curiouser." I took a slug of coffee. "Keep on it. Go through those papers with a fine-toothed comb. Everything points to that spa."
"Okay, slave driver." She laughed.
"By the way, you're gonna represent us at the community meetin' at the Chimney Rock Senior Center this afternoon."
She rubbed her belly. "Sure. I'll make you proud."
I patted her shoulder. "I know you will." She was my best deputy.
She picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to me. "We haven't heard from the lab yet, but we did get this from the DEA's south central lab in Dallas. They ran a quick gas chromatograph on it to compare it with agent purchases they're receiving and other huge seizures."
"Oh, yeah?" I took the printout from her and read aloud. "Ninety-three percent diacetylmorphine, six percent adulterants, and one percent inert ingredients." My mouth went dry. "This stuff is flat out kill ya smack. Absolutely lethal until it's cut." Thank God Ronnie hadn't somehow gotten any on her fingers and inadvertently transferred it to her mouth.
"That'll fetch a pretty penny." She shook her head. "And kill even after it's cut."
I nodded. "I'll take this with me and put it in the murder book."
"You goin' down the hall?"
I rattled the sheet of paper, then tossed a quick glance over my shoulder toward the sheriff's office. "He usually doesn't hound me, but since the city missed the dope in the hotel room, he wants to make sure this department doesn't wind up with egg on its face too."
"Why don't you convince him to send me to the spa for the maternity special? Then I can do a little nosin' around." Her palms connected as if in prayer as her eyes gazed up at me.
The soulful look on her face was precious. Maybe if I whipped my cell phone out, took a shot, and showed her beseeching mug to the sheriff, he'd go for that idea. Then again, maybe not.
"I'm afraid Mrs. Ingels, the PI from New York, has that covered." I jutted my chin toward the boss's office. "I can tell you, he's not too happy about her side investigation."
"From what I see, the wife's the sole financial beneficiary of the victim's estate. Got plenty of bucks to spend gettin' dolled up."
"The estate's in probate and she won't get anything that's ill-gotten gains. She's waiting tables at the Chuck Wagon."
"You don't say? I was thinkin' she's the prime suspect."
"So did the rookie detective. Probably why he missed the dope."
She rested a hand on her stomach. "Maybe the girlfriend thought he'd changed his will, puttin' her in and cuttin' the wife out. There's a motive right there could move that sweetie up a notch or two on the suspect list."
"Yep, it might." I bit back a grin, thinking Ronnie would like that theory.
"Since I can't get a uniform around my girlish figure, I ought to go nosin' around undercover at that bridal shop in civvies... 'cept for my
"You wouldn't have to try any dresses on. I don't want to bring you bad luck."
She took my hand in hers. "I don't believe in luck neither. I'll go with you, Ronnie, if it means that much to you."
*****
Abilene, TX
Day Six, Morning
Deputy Sergeant Dawson Hughes
If I was hog-tied and dragged in, I still wouldn't drink a cup of Starbuck's coffee. I carried my paper-cup from Mad Merv Java into the station house. Now this was coffee. Hand blended Hawaiian Kona roasted in small batches with a splash of half 'n half. Complex flavor, heady aroma, medium-bodied, slightly acidic.
I stopped by the bullpen and spoke to Deputy Dixie Watts, animated strawberry-blond, peaches and cream complexion, now six months pregnant. "How're you doin' with the leadership series roster and registration forms?"
She swiveled her chair to face me and crossed her arms over her belly. "Still workin' on 'em. But I can tell you this, Ava Chandler attended those lectures. According to the roster, she was there Friday evenin', then Saturday for both sessions, as well as the Sunday brunch and session followin' it."
"It gets curiouser and curiouser." I took a slug of coffee. "Keep on it. Go through those papers with a fine-toothed comb. Everything points to that spa."
"Okay, slave driver." She laughed.
"By the way, you're gonna represent us at the community meetin' at the Chimney Rock Senior Center this afternoon."
She rubbed her belly. "Sure. I'll make you proud."
I patted her shoulder. "I know you will." She was my best deputy.
She picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to me. "We haven't heard from the lab yet, but we did get this from the DEA's south central lab in Dallas. They ran a quick gas chromatograph on it to compare it with agent purchases they're receiving and other huge seizures."
"Oh, yeah?" I took the printout from her and read aloud. "Ninety-three percent diacetylmorphine, six percent adulterants, and one percent inert ingredients." My mouth went dry. "This stuff is flat out kill ya smack. Absolutely lethal until it's cut." Thank God Ronnie hadn't somehow gotten any on her fingers and inadvertently transferred it to her mouth.
"That'll fetch a pretty penny." She shook her head. "And kill even after it's cut."
I nodded. "I'll take this with me and put it in the murder book."
"You goin' down the hall?"
I rattled the sheet of paper, then tossed a quick glance over my shoulder toward the sheriff's office. "He usually doesn't hound me, but since the city missed the dope in the hotel room, he wants to make sure this department doesn't wind up with egg on its face too."
"Why don't you convince him to send me to the spa for the maternity special? Then I can do a little nosin' around." Her palms connected as if in prayer as her eyes gazed up at me.
The soulful look on her face was precious. Maybe if I whipped my cell phone out, took a shot, and showed her beseeching mug to the sheriff, he'd go for that idea. Then again, maybe not.
"I'm afraid Mrs. Ingels, the PI from New York, has that covered." I jutted my chin toward the boss's office. "I can tell you, he's not too happy about her side investigation."
"From what I see, the wife's the sole financial beneficiary of the victim's estate. Got plenty of bucks to spend gettin' dolled up."
"The estate's in probate and she won't get anything that's ill-gotten gains. She's waiting tables at the Chuck Wagon."
"You don't say? I was thinkin' she's the prime suspect."
"So did the rookie detective. Probably why he missed the dope."
She rested a hand on her stomach. "Maybe the girlfriend thought he'd changed his will, puttin' her in and cuttin' the wife out. There's a motive right there could move that sweetie up a notch or two on the suspect list."
"Yep, it might." I bit back a grin, thinking Ronnie would like that theory.
"Since I can't get a uniform around my girlish figure, I ought to go nosin' around undercover at that bridal shop in civvies... 'cept for my
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