Read Online Murder Deja Vu by Polly Iyer - Free Book Online Page A

an investigator for the accused’s lawyer.” Clarence took out his card, along with Reece’s picture. “You see him in here Friday night? Someone said he was. You couldn’t miss him. He’s taller than you, got some gray in his hair. Tanned, good looking.”
    The bartender examined the picture. “That was Ricky Poteat said that. He couldn’t have seen Santa Claus Friday night. He was drunk as a skunk. Don’t know why he’d say that.”
    “Get his name in the paper, maybe?”
    “Maybe.”
    “So Reece Daughtry wasn’t here Friday. That what you’re saying?”
    “Nope. Not Friday, but he’s been here before, couple of times. People come from miles around to hear the music. You get to recognize them. Strangers stick out. He seemed like a nice guy. Quiet. Drank a few beers, listened to the music, and left. Good tipper.”
    Clarence knew that. Reece said he’d been to the bar. “Would you be willing to tell that to a judge?”
    “Yup. Not a problem.”
    “Rayanne in here Friday?”
    “Yeah. She popped in most Fridays.”
    The bartender shot some more beer into Clarence’s glass and said the second thing he came to hear.
    “And she left with a stranger.”

Chapter Fourteen
Calling Bluffs

    R obert hated dealing with Harry Klugh because the slimy private eye knew too much. That was Robert’s own damn fault, but getting ahead required someone like Klugh on the payroll. Robert would have to live with it because it was too late now. He’d do what Robert wanted without him having to spell it out. Klugh would balk first, act like he was above the dirty deeds, but the PI liked money too much to refuse.
    They sat at a table in the out-of-the-way diner where they usually met. Robert never wanted to be seen with Klugh. “I told you to get to Rudy’s early. What’s going on?”
    Klugh shrugged. “Who knew the investigator working for Daughtry’s big-mouth Boston attorney would beat me there today? He sweet-talked the yokel police chief in Corley into giving him the police report too.”
    “Jesus.” Robert mopped the sweat off his forehead. He’d kill for a drink, but this place didn’t have anything but beer. He needed scotch. “Maybe I should fucking hire him. When was the last time the great Harry Klugh lost the edge?”
    “I’m slowing down, Robert. Getting old, kinda like you. What’s the big deal, anyway? Maybe Daughtry didn’t do this one or the first one either, like they say. Considering the flimsy evidence back then, it’s a wonder they ever convicted him.”
    “ They ? Who the hell are ‘“they”’ besides the most quoted people in the universe. No matter what they say, twelve jurors of his peers convicted Reece Daughtry of murder.”
    “Whatever, Robert. You’re the prosecutor. You should know what you’re talking about.” Klugh scanned the diner. “And I’d keep your voice down if you don’t want to call attention to yourself. Now, what do you want from me?”
    “I’m Mr. Minette to you today.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I want you to get me something to connect Reece Daughtry with the woman in Corley. Better yet, get me proof he killed her. The matchbook they found at Daughtry’s is worthless, and the guy who said he saw Daughtry on Friday night was falling-down drunk. Even I can’t make him look credible. The judge will set bail. We’ll be lucky if that stone man doesn’t sue us for false arrest.”
    Klugh laughed. “Maybe there is no proof.”
    “Well, find some. I don’t give a damn how. Just do it. I didn’t bring you up from Atlanta to ask me how to find evidence. That’s your job. Talk to the victim’s friends. See if she ever mentioned meeting a tall guy at Rudy’s who looked like Daughtry. See if she slept with him, for crissakes. I hear she slept around.”
    Klugh leaned in closer, spoke in a whisper. “You don’t pay me enough to do what I think you’re asking. I won’t manufacture evidence, for any amount of money.”
    Robert snorted.