Read Online Kill and Run (A Thorny Rose Mystery Book 1) by Lauren Carr - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lauren Carr
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old. He knew intimately the pain this young girl was going to experience.
“Has anyone contacted Crenshaw’s daughter?” Murphy stood up to ask the police lieutenant.
“We sent a patrol unit to the school to pick her up and take her to the police department,” Wu replied from the living room.
“Has she been told about her mother yet?”
“Our counselor will tell her once I get back to the station,” Wu said.
Shaking his head, Murphy stared down at the bullet-riddled body of the woman at his feet.
“Preliminary from the ME says she died between eight and nine last night,” Lieutenant WU said, “after the other party guests. They died between seven and eight last night.”
Murphy turned to look over the railing that ran the width of the room to mark off the dining room from the drop down living room. Three women were sprawled in different positions around the small living room. One, who appeared to be in her late thirties to early forties, was in front of the sofa. Another woman, who could have been in her early to mid-thirties, was next to the chair. A petite-built young woman, who could not have been thirty, looked like she was crawling to the door leading out to the deck when she breathed her last breath. A cloth bag rested next to the sofa, the image of a big, white chef’s hat emblazoned on the side, with the name “Cozy Cook” written in red letters across the hat.
Unlike Donna, none of them had been shot.
“Were they poisoned?” Murphy asked.
“Looks like it,” Wu said. “We won’t know for certain until after the tox screens.”
“Whoever it was waited for my petty officer after they were dead,” Murphy said.
“ Your petty officer?” Wu arched one of his eyebrows. One side of his thin lips curled upwards.
“ My petty officer,” Murphy replied. “Tell me about the homeowner.”
“According to the phone number listed for that last text, it was sent from her phone. Francine Baxter.” Lieutenant Wu pointed to the floor above them. “She’s up in the master bedroom with two GSWs. One in the chest, the other to the head. She died between five-thirty and six-thirty.”
“She died about an hour before these three women,” Murphy gestured at the women in the living room, “and two hours before Crenshaw?”
Wu nodded. “There’s no way she sent that text to Crenshaw.”
“That means the killer spent at least two hours in this house,” Murphy said, “waiting for Donna Crenshaw. When she texted that she was running late, the killer replied, telling her to let herself in so that he or she could kill her.”
Wu shrugged his shoulders. “If you do the math.”
Murphy referred to Donna’s Crenshaw’s cell phone that he found he still held in his hand. “The meeting was at seven.”
“Party,” Lieutenant Wu corrected him. “Two of our victims told their husbands that they were going to a Cozy Cook party.” He pointed at the bag with the chef’s hat displayed on the front.
“Do you see any food put out?” Murphy asked.
Lieutenant Wu’s narrow eyes grew wide.
“Have you ever been to a Cozy Cook party?” Murphy asked with a smile.
“Have you?”
“No, but my mother used to host them,” Murphy said. “The sales lady comes to the house and cooks up all this food and lays out a whole bunch of stuff to sell to the guests.” With a sweep of his arm, he pointed out, “There’s no food or cooking stuff laid out. Your victims lied to their husbands. These women came here for a meeting.”
He held up Donna Crenshaw’s cell phone. “The day before the meeting, someone texted Donna saying that they needed her to put a stop to someone. She was important to the purpose of the meeting and that’s why the killer hung out here for two hours and killed all of these woman—in order to kill my petty officer.”
“Are you telling me that the navy is taking the lead in this case?” Lieutenant Wu asked with a sigh heavy with resignation.
“All evidence indicates my
“Has anyone contacted Crenshaw’s daughter?” Murphy stood up to ask the police lieutenant.
“We sent a patrol unit to the school to pick her up and take her to the police department,” Wu replied from the living room.
“Has she been told about her mother yet?”
“Our counselor will tell her once I get back to the station,” Wu said.
Shaking his head, Murphy stared down at the bullet-riddled body of the woman at his feet.
“Preliminary from the ME says she died between eight and nine last night,” Lieutenant WU said, “after the other party guests. They died between seven and eight last night.”
Murphy turned to look over the railing that ran the width of the room to mark off the dining room from the drop down living room. Three women were sprawled in different positions around the small living room. One, who appeared to be in her late thirties to early forties, was in front of the sofa. Another woman, who could have been in her early to mid-thirties, was next to the chair. A petite-built young woman, who could not have been thirty, looked like she was crawling to the door leading out to the deck when she breathed her last breath. A cloth bag rested next to the sofa, the image of a big, white chef’s hat emblazoned on the side, with the name “Cozy Cook” written in red letters across the hat.
Unlike Donna, none of them had been shot.
“Were they poisoned?” Murphy asked.
“Looks like it,” Wu said. “We won’t know for certain until after the tox screens.”
“Whoever it was waited for my petty officer after they were dead,” Murphy said.
“ Your petty officer?” Wu arched one of his eyebrows. One side of his thin lips curled upwards.
“ My petty officer,” Murphy replied. “Tell me about the homeowner.”
“According to the phone number listed for that last text, it was sent from her phone. Francine Baxter.” Lieutenant Wu pointed to the floor above them. “She’s up in the master bedroom with two GSWs. One in the chest, the other to the head. She died between five-thirty and six-thirty.”
“She died about an hour before these three women,” Murphy gestured at the women in the living room, “and two hours before Crenshaw?”
Wu nodded. “There’s no way she sent that text to Crenshaw.”
“That means the killer spent at least two hours in this house,” Murphy said, “waiting for Donna Crenshaw. When she texted that she was running late, the killer replied, telling her to let herself in so that he or she could kill her.”
Wu shrugged his shoulders. “If you do the math.”
Murphy referred to Donna’s Crenshaw’s cell phone that he found he still held in his hand. “The meeting was at seven.”
“Party,” Lieutenant Wu corrected him. “Two of our victims told their husbands that they were going to a Cozy Cook party.” He pointed at the bag with the chef’s hat displayed on the front.
“Do you see any food put out?” Murphy asked.
Lieutenant Wu’s narrow eyes grew wide.
“Have you ever been to a Cozy Cook party?” Murphy asked with a smile.
“Have you?”
“No, but my mother used to host them,” Murphy said. “The sales lady comes to the house and cooks up all this food and lays out a whole bunch of stuff to sell to the guests.” With a sweep of his arm, he pointed out, “There’s no food or cooking stuff laid out. Your victims lied to their husbands. These women came here for a meeting.”
He held up Donna Crenshaw’s cell phone. “The day before the meeting, someone texted Donna saying that they needed her to put a stop to someone. She was important to the purpose of the meeting and that’s why the killer hung out here for two hours and killed all of these woman—in order to kill my petty officer.”
“Are you telling me that the navy is taking the lead in this case?” Lieutenant Wu asked with a sigh heavy with resignation.
“All evidence indicates my
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