Read Online Mortal Crimes: 7 Novels of Suspense by Brett Battles, Robert Gregory Browne, Melissa F. Miller, J. Carson Black, Michael Wallace, M A Comley, Carol Davis Luce - Free Book Online
Authors: Brett Battles, Robert Gregory Browne, Melissa F. Miller, J. Carson Black, Michael Wallace, M A Comley, Carol Davis Luce
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Crime, Mystery, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense
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sixties. She missed the sun coming in through the windows, the small plane hanging above the up escalator, the batwing-doored saloon on the second floor. Now TIA could have been transplanted to anywhere in the country—generic purple and gray.
Laura had seen a picture of Patsy Groves and her husband Greg in a clipping from a newspaper article. The picture was several years old, but Laura recognized Mrs. Groves as she came down the ramp.
She looked like a yellow crayon worn down to a nub. Her short hair was yellow, her Capri pants and top were yellow, her complexion sallow. If she wore yellow to cheer herself up, it didn't appear to be working.
She made a beeline for them, her hand wrapped tightly around the handle of her pull-along suitcase, determination in every bone.
“You must be the detectives,” she said, planting herself in front of them. “Were you the ones who found Kristy?”
“No, ma'am,” Jaime said. “But we are the ones you want to talk to.”
“I don't want to see her.”
“Well, you don't have to—“
“I want to remember her the way she was.”
They started walking toward the baggage carousel, Jaime saying, “I'll bet Tennessee's a heck of lot cooler than here.”
She touched her yellow hair. “Everything's blooming. I have allergies, but it's worth it.”
“Bet you don't miss the heat.”
“I hate this place. Thought I'd never have to come back here again.”
“That's understandable,” Laura said.
Patsy Groves shot her a look that said she didn't understand at all.
A beep sounded, and the carousel they stood before started to move. Jaime's shins up against the carousel, watching for the bags to come out, Patsy Groves standing beside him. A partnership of sorts. Jaime kept her talking, chivalrously lifting one bag after another and setting them on the purple carpet. “Is that it?”
“One more. I always overpack,” Patsy Groves added, her tone confidential.
After they picked up the last bag, Laura handed the keys to Jaime. “Why don't you get the car?”
“ No hay problema .” He took the keys and threw them up in the air, caught them with a flourish.
Laura tried to engage Mrs. Groves in small talk as they headed out to the street. She noticed the answers she got were monosyllabic. When Jaime drove up, Patsy looked genuinely glad to see him.
They drove the one long block to the DPS building. Laura led the way to the conference room upstairs off the squad bay. She tried to catch Jaime's eye, wanting to get it straight between them that he would be the lead, but he seemed immersed in his conversation with Mrs. Groves. As Laura thought about how to signal her intention, Jaime reached past her for a chair and pulled it across the floor. He motioned Mrs. Groves to sit, then pulled another chair away from the table and sat down so that he was facing her.
Laura had not needed to tell him after all. She admired the smooth way he did it, as if they had been partners for years. She'd underestimated him. She took another chair and parked herself at the short end of the table, off to Mrs. Groves's left side. That way she'd be close enough to witness the interview, but wouldn't intrude.
“Mrs. Groves,” Jaime said, “can I call you Patsy?”
Patsy Groves rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Call me Pat.”
“Pat, first, I want to say how sorry I am for … what happened with Kristy. If you need anything—a drink of water? Anything like that, I'll get it for you.”
Patsy Groves nodded again, her eyes never leaving his.
Laura was impressed with the easy way he created intimacy. Even though he was a big man, he gave the impression of being much smaller. His shoulders slumped forward, his knees seemed to come up, and he shrank two sizes. He had already gained Patsy Groves's confidence, even though Laura had pegged her as the suspicious type.
“Before we start,” Jaime said, “do you have any questions?”
Mrs. Groves said, “When will they release the body?”
Laura
Laura had seen a picture of Patsy Groves and her husband Greg in a clipping from a newspaper article. The picture was several years old, but Laura recognized Mrs. Groves as she came down the ramp.
She looked like a yellow crayon worn down to a nub. Her short hair was yellow, her Capri pants and top were yellow, her complexion sallow. If she wore yellow to cheer herself up, it didn't appear to be working.
She made a beeline for them, her hand wrapped tightly around the handle of her pull-along suitcase, determination in every bone.
“You must be the detectives,” she said, planting herself in front of them. “Were you the ones who found Kristy?”
“No, ma'am,” Jaime said. “But we are the ones you want to talk to.”
“I don't want to see her.”
“Well, you don't have to—“
“I want to remember her the way she was.”
They started walking toward the baggage carousel, Jaime saying, “I'll bet Tennessee's a heck of lot cooler than here.”
She touched her yellow hair. “Everything's blooming. I have allergies, but it's worth it.”
“Bet you don't miss the heat.”
“I hate this place. Thought I'd never have to come back here again.”
“That's understandable,” Laura said.
Patsy Groves shot her a look that said she didn't understand at all.
A beep sounded, and the carousel they stood before started to move. Jaime's shins up against the carousel, watching for the bags to come out, Patsy Groves standing beside him. A partnership of sorts. Jaime kept her talking, chivalrously lifting one bag after another and setting them on the purple carpet. “Is that it?”
“One more. I always overpack,” Patsy Groves added, her tone confidential.
After they picked up the last bag, Laura handed the keys to Jaime. “Why don't you get the car?”
“ No hay problema .” He took the keys and threw them up in the air, caught them with a flourish.
Laura tried to engage Mrs. Groves in small talk as they headed out to the street. She noticed the answers she got were monosyllabic. When Jaime drove up, Patsy looked genuinely glad to see him.
They drove the one long block to the DPS building. Laura led the way to the conference room upstairs off the squad bay. She tried to catch Jaime's eye, wanting to get it straight between them that he would be the lead, but he seemed immersed in his conversation with Mrs. Groves. As Laura thought about how to signal her intention, Jaime reached past her for a chair and pulled it across the floor. He motioned Mrs. Groves to sit, then pulled another chair away from the table and sat down so that he was facing her.
Laura had not needed to tell him after all. She admired the smooth way he did it, as if they had been partners for years. She'd underestimated him. She took another chair and parked herself at the short end of the table, off to Mrs. Groves's left side. That way she'd be close enough to witness the interview, but wouldn't intrude.
“Mrs. Groves,” Jaime said, “can I call you Patsy?”
Patsy Groves rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Call me Pat.”
“Pat, first, I want to say how sorry I am for … what happened with Kristy. If you need anything—a drink of water? Anything like that, I'll get it for you.”
Patsy Groves nodded again, her eyes never leaving his.
Laura was impressed with the easy way he created intimacy. Even though he was a big man, he gave the impression of being much smaller. His shoulders slumped forward, his knees seemed to come up, and he shrank two sizes. He had already gained Patsy Groves's confidence, even though Laura had pegged her as the suspicious type.
“Before we start,” Jaime said, “do you have any questions?”
Mrs. Groves said, “When will they release the body?”
Laura
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