Read Online Lost Legacy by Dana Mentink - Free Book Online

university has heard from the police that there are no leads on the shooting of Tuney’s cohort.”
    Brooke thought she heard the slightest note of disdain in Lock’s choice of the word cohort. Could it be that Tuney had been forced on Lock by the administration?
    Lock cleared his throat. “My orders are to have Tuney accompany you in your investigations, so that’s what I’m going to do. He won’t get in your way, I’m sure.”
    The smug look on Tuney’s face made Brooke quiver inside, but she knew there was no point in resisting.
    “I trust you have no problem with Tuney’s assistance in this matter?” Lock said, directing his gaze at Brooke. “You have nothing to hide, do you?”
    Do you?
    She thought about her father’s secretive behavior. It grated on her that she hadn’t known he’d sent the painting to Colda. Why hadn’t he trusted her with the information? She swallowed the doubts and lifted her chin. “Of course not. The more eyes the better.”
    “Great,” Tuney said, fishing a key from his pocket. “Then let’s go over to Colda’s place. It’s a dump, but it should be interesting to see if you can find something I didn’t.”
    With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Brooke headed out into the chilly morning, following Stephanie and Victor.
    Tuney lingered behind to exchange words with the dean.
    Victor’s jaw was tight, strides quick and angry. Stephanie and Brooke had to jog to keep up. “I don’t like having someone looking over my shoulder, especially someone I don’t trust. I never should have…” He broke off.
    What? Brooke wondered. Hired a man like Tuney all those years before? Did he feel like Brooke did, that putting Tuney on a case was like dripping blood into shark-infested waters? She wanted to be angry at him for hiring such a man, but she wasn’t sure she would have behaved differently if it was her loved one who died at the hands of someone who got away scot-free.
    Her thoughts surprised her. Understanding for this man? A man who would be elated to pin a death on her innocent father? She quickened her pace, trying to leave the thoughts behind. They arrived on the front porch of a tidy two-story bungalow, brick sides edged in ivy. It was neat and well tended, charmingly old in appearance but newly renovated, as evidenced by the double-paned windows and smart trim.
    Tuney finally joined them and unlocked the door, standing aside with a flourish. “Colda’s is upstairs, the suite at the end of the hallway.” They climbed the stairs, trailed down a darkened corridor, and he unlocked the interior door and stepped back, allowing the others to enter first.
    Brooke gasped.
    “Has it been tossed?” Stephanie said.
    Tuney laughed. “No, the guy’s just a slob of epic proportions.”
    Slob was an understatement. Stacks of magazines and books dotted the wood floors. A tangle of ivy cascaded from a pot down the stuffed bookcase, both plant and books coated with a layer of dust. Piles of books filled every available corner, and the windows were plastered with sticky notes and tattered bits of paper taped here and there.
    “Hard to believe Colda is a professor, isn’t it?” Tuney said, fingering a stack of comic books. “Lived more like a vagrant. Students said he was flighty. He had no sense of time. One time he was in the library and forgot what time it was. One of his teaching assistants had to go find him so he could teach class.”
    Tuney went on, but Brooke wasn’t listening. Her gaze was drawn to the wall next to a battered dining table, covered with stacks of newspapers.
    “That’s it,” she said.
    Victor and Stephanie continued to prowl around the space and paid her no attention so she said it louder.
    “There.” Something in her tone made them both stop.
    She pointed to the small, framed picture above the dining-room table. “That’s The Contemplative Lady, ” she said with a sigh. “Well, a reproduction anyway.” Even though it wasn’t the real thing,