Read Online Mike Reuther - Return to Dead City by Mike Reuther - Free Book Online Page B

Despite having mothered three kids, and having traveled a road with more than its share of bumps, Pat was still a package that could make men’s eyes turn. She came out of the kitchen with coffee and my usual drink of Scotch before settling onto the couch beside me.
    “You’re some hostess there Veranda.” I said as I sipped from my drink.
    Pat frowned and concentrated on the TV. A wife was being slapped around by a husband. Another one of Hollywood’s abuse-of-the-week stories.
    “I’d have dropped my robe , but I know how you private dicks like to do everything yourselves.”
    She was smiling behind her coffee cup.
    I put down my drink and moved right up against her. I could feel her body stir beneath the robe.
    “Not so fast bud. I’m the mother of three children and a lady to boot.”
    “One out of two ain’t bad.”
    She pushed me away and assumed a snotty princess look. “What do you mean I’m not a lady?”
    “Heh. Heh. Who needs a lady when you can have Veranda the Vamp.”
    “You shit.”
    She made no huge effort to fight the long kiss that came next. We were both hot for each other all right. She let out a sigh as I eased her back on the sofa and got a hand inside her robe.
    “The kids are still awake,” she whispered.
    “So am I.”
    She gave me a push and wiggled out from under me. Play time could wait. She arranged herself on the couch and studied me over her coffee cup. “So tell me about your day.” She knew about the murder , but I filled her in on the details.
    “So who called you to take the case?”
    I shrugged. “That’s a good question. It was a man but he never identified himself.”
    “So you’re more or less working on this case on your own?”
    “It looks that way. At least for now.”
    She shook her head and smiled.
    “What?”
    “You’re broke as it is. Now you’re taking on a case with no hope of receiving any fee.”
    “Not broke exactly. I still got about a month’s worth of severance pay coming from my old job. Besides, I may deep-six this case real quick. It doesn’t look like anyone had any real reason to kill our hometown hero.”
    “Free you up to pursue the wandering husbands?”
    “Heh. Heh. You know any Veranda?”
    Pat threw me a knowing look. She leaned toward me then and crossed her legs to expose a healthy sampling of thigh.
    “I’ll never tell,” she said.
    I allowed myself a long look. We both got up slowly and with our arms about each other we walked toward her bedroom.
     
    “It’s all fairly simple gentlemen. A knife wound in the upper back portion of the body resulting in trauma, massive tissue damage and substantial bleeding.”
    The coroner brought the white sheet over the body of Lance Miller. A Centre Town detective named McNish stood beside me watching the coroner slide the body back into the cold gray slot that would serve as a temporary roosting spot for the dead ballplayer. Class, you might say, had just ended.
    I had a few questions though.
    “You didn’t mention anything about the knife. Did the blade have a smooth edge?
    The coroner shot me a look that could have frozen a polar bear. He was a meticulous kind of guy with a wiry little mustache, steel rim glasses and the somber, unwavering approach to his job of one who has seen more than his share of death. Grins and giggles were out of the guy’s league. He glanced at McNish before turning his gaze on me.
    “Absolutely Mr. Crager.” He held me with that stoney-eyed look.
    “So what gives doc?”
    “I beg your pardon?” He stood facing me in his white smock with his arms neatly folded.
    “The blade doc. It wasn’t serrated?”
    “That would be correct.”
    “Was it a hunting knife?”
    He turned to McNish. “I don’t hunt Detective McNish. Therefore, I can not reasonably conclude that the assault weapon was in fact an instrument normally used for carving wild game.”
    “Any evidence that the blade was twisted or turned when it penetrated the skin?” I asked.
    The