Read Online Murder in the Mist by Loretta C. Rogers - Free Book Online Page B

you.”
    Opening the door and flipping on the lights, she dropped the large scrapbook on the desk. She held up the rose, and handed him the note. He read it aloud. “‘No one loves you.’ Not exactly the way you’d want to start your morning.” He picked up the rose and twirled the stem between his fingers. “Is there a significance to the flower with the note?”
    She went through the rote motions of making coffee. “I don’t know.”
    “I’m a cop, Laura. You may have bested me with the garlic-arsenic evidence, but I’m savvy enough to know when people are hiding from something. If you’re in trouble, the only way I can help is for you to give me details.”
    Everything inside her tightened until she thought she was going to break. She opened her laptop. “Give me a sec. Before I get too tightly wound, I want to research the meaning of a white rose.”
    Her fingers flew over the keys. The frown on her face and her silence prompted Mitch to ask, “What does it say?”
    “Suited to reverent occasions, the white rose is a fitting way to honor a friend or loved one in recognition of a new beginning”—her voice broke—“or…a farewell. White roses are often displayed at funerals.”
    She watched him watching her. He studied her intently, his eyes dark, expression somber. “Just breathe, Friday. It’s going to be all right.”
    She closed her eyes, and felt as if her world had turned upside down. “Better pour a cup of coffee. If you have time, I’ll give you the long version. If not, you’ll have to settle for a quick sketch.”
    “I’ve got time.”
    “Promise, not a hint of this to Louise. If you do, I’m as good as dead. And if they’ve found me, it’s only a matter of time.”
    He listened intently as Laura filled him in on the details of the night she was shot and her camera man killed. “That’s why I changed my name and left New York. Even though I’m the legal owner, the Gazette was purchased under the ownership of a dummy corporation, for my protection. Writing tame articles isn’t my style. I’ve been careful not to post my picture on social media sites or to write articles that would draw a flurry of outside reporters. Other than you and Aunt Philly, no one else knows. She’s as close-mouthed as a clam when it comes to keeping confidences.”
    Laura propped her elbows on the desk and covered her face with her hands. “How could Elio Casper track me down? He’s in prison.”
    “The Internet is the eyes and ears of the world. Nothing’s private. I pulled up some of your articles, Laura. You’ve been responsible for ratting out a lot of dangerous thugs. With your permission, I’ll do some snooping, on my personal computer, after hours. Louise won’t know. If necessary, I can call in a few favors.
    “In the meantime, go about your daily business. My guess is we’ve got a local who thinks pulling crank jokes on the new lady in town is funny. Whoever he or she is, they’re probably waiting to see how much they’ve rattled your chain. You’re a pro at these games. Don’t give them what they want.”
    She had that feeling, that creeping pins-and-needles feeling in her spine, that told her something bad was about to happen. She blinked. “I have a permit to carry a concealed weapon. It’s issued in the name of Laura Schofield.”
    “What’s your weapon choice?”
    “A Ruger LCR.”
    Mitch blew out a whistle. “Sweet. Small, compact, deadly. If it makes you feel safe, go for it.”
    Responding to the vibration at his waist, he looked down at his beeper. “It’s Louise.” He smiled. “Maybe she needs me to get a cat out of a tree, or a squirrel from an attic.”
    Laura’s limp smile let him know the joke had fallen short. He added, “I still think it’s a sick prank, but as a precaution be cognizant of any out-of-the-ordinary strangers. You have enough street smarts to detect them.”
    She gave a little wave and watched him walk out the door. She opened a desk drawer