Read Online Murder Comes Calling by C. S. Challinor - Free Book Online Page A

Randy?” he asked Charlotte.
    “Handy Randy?” She almost laughed. “I’ve seen him about the neighbourhood. He drives by and leers at me from his van. He thinks he’s God’s gift. Why do you ask?”
    “I understand he did odd jobs for the four victims.”
    “Oh, I see.” She looked pensive—and worried. “Do you think I’m in danger?”
    “Are you all alone here?” Malcolm asked solicitously.
    “Well … yes. I’ve thought about going to stay with a friend, but it’s difficult when my home office is here.”
    “Do you at least have secure locks? An alarm?” Malcolm asked.
    Charlotte nodded, and made a visible effort to cover her panic. “Listen, can I offer either of you anything to drink? Tea, coffee, Scottish malt?” she asked Rex.
    Tempted as he was by the whisky and the mellow ambience of the room, he declined, and Malcolm followed suit.
    “We’ve probably taken up enough of your time,” Rex said warmly and stood up. Malcolm did likewise, though more reluctantly. Rex shook Charlotte’s hand at the front door and expressed his thanks for her helpfulness and hospitality.
    “You will let me know if you come up with anything?” she asked.
    “Most assuredly.”
    She opened the door, fitted with a Chubb lock and the thick safety chain, and the men huddled into their coats against the damp cold. Rex turned on the path to bid Charlotte goodbye again before she closed the door.
    “Why did you refuse a drink?” Malcolm asked, clearly disgruntled, as the two men made their way down the driveway.
    “I felt bad aboot accepting her hospitality when we’re not here in an official capacity, as you intimated.”
    “I did not.”
    “You said you were the forensic medical examiner.”
    “I said I was an FME,” Malcolm corrected him.
    “You implied you were the FME. And you’re really a forensic pathologist.”
    “I didn’t want to scare her off.”
    “You wanted to impress her?”
    “Well, dealing only with dead bodies is not generally considered glamorous.”
    Amused, Rex pulled his friend’s arm in the direction of the cul-de-sacs. “Let’s try the third ‘For Sale’.” This was the only property listed under a different real estate broker than Walker & Associates. “Then we’ll go for some pub grub.”
    “And a drink,” Malcolm approved, trotting after him. “Ever since Charlie mentioned booze, I’ve had a craving. It’ll help chase away the chill.”
    Rex duly noted the “Charlie” and smiled to himself. “Do you know the sellers on Otter Court?” he asked.
    “The Ballantines. Rick and Sandra, and their teenage son. Name’s Will, I think. Don’t see him about much. He’s a bit of a loner. Likes to stay inside playing video games, especially the violent ones, according to his mother.”
    “I might have seen him this morning, heading through the green towards the river. A pale, lanky lad, with an unruly mop of chestnut hair?
    “That’s him.”
    The sign in the front yard of the Ballantine house, which stood on a pie-shaped lot towards the end of the cul-de-sac, depicted two interlocking silver triangles. The name EuroConnect was printed in bold letters beneath. Rex pressed the doorbell, but no one answered the chime.
    He knocked once, twice. “Nobody’s home,” he said, conceding defeat. “I’d like to know if the foreign couple swung by here. This is a four-bedroom, by the looks of it.”
    “Yes, it’s an Oak. You can tell by the dormer window. I think that’s Will’s bedroom. I often see his light on late at night.”
    Rex didn’t think of his friend as a night owl, yet refrained from asking what he was often doing out late. Malcolm was a grown man, and it was better than thinking of him spending all his evenings in with TV dinners. Rex gazed up at the dormer window and pictured the teenager alone in his room intent on his video games. His own son had been more into sports and girls at that age. He’d been an only child, too. Rex decided to call Campbell that