coincidence.
“This is Susie,” announced a voice on the line.
“Susie, hi. This is Detective Jake Gilford with the Kansas City Police Department. I got your number from Betty, at the law offices of Roland Watkins and Associates.”
“Sure! What can I do for you, Detective?”
“I see the name of Eugene Tuttle on the directory here, same floor as Watkins. What can you tell me about him?”
“Eugene Tuttle,” she repeated. “Let me check.”
He heard computer clicks and beeps.
“Tuttle signed the lease six months ago, for two years.”
“ Suite 415 ?”
“Yes.”
He moved down the hall. “That's what the directory says, but I don't see any signs of life in 415. I'm in front of the door now. There's no name or anything.”
“Evidently, he hasn't moved in yet.”
“After six months? Isn't that strange? I can't imagine the rent is cheap here.”
She chuckled. “No, it's not. But it's not that strange. Sometimes people start a business, which doesn't work out. Then there are people who rent space to have an address, but never actually move in. We don't like that, but it happens.”
“Tuttle hasn't contacted you to get out of his lease?”
“Not that I'm aware of. I'm sure I'd know. I handle the accounts.”
“Do you know if he gets mail here?”
“I don't. We wouldn't know that. The post office might be able to help you.”
“Okay, thanks, Susie. I appreciate it.”
“You bet, anytime.”
He snapped his phone shut, shoved it in his pocket. Next stop—post office .
The post office clerk was not as forthcoming with information as she could have been, Jake decided. He tossed a few names around, and had to mention getting a subpoena before the woman agreed to look up the address. Mail for Eugene Tuttle's office had indeed been forwarded to a post office box, number 272, located in the substation where they stood. Security cameras covered all the boxes, but to see the tapes would require a court order.
Jake hummed as he returned to the department. He could get a court order. A long shot, but a risk he felt worth taking. Something about Save Our Wildlife smelled fishy. He smiled at his own pun.
He arranged for the court order, then touched base with the members of the surveillance unit scheduled to meet him at the mansion for the night. Confident their plan was in place, he signed out mid-afternoon. He'd be working all night; he wanted to take some time off before then.
He found Joss asleep on the sofa when he arrived home. He sat on the edge next to her hip, ran a hand over her hair. “Hey, sleeping beauty. I'm home.”
She stretched, yawned, but didn't open her eyes. “Prince Charming?”
“Yep, that's me. If you keep your eyes closed, that is.”
She smiled and opened them. “No way. I love looking at you. I could look at you all day long.”
He leaned in, pressing a light kiss to her lips. “Gee, that sounds boring. I could think of many more interesting ways to pass the time.”
Joss slid her arms around his neck. “Tell me some.”
His mouth moved to her neck. “Do you really want to talk? Cause I can talk, if you like.”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “Don't talk. Kiss. Keep kissing, don't stop.”
He smirked and kissed his way around her neck until he reached her other ear. “Why don't we move this party to the bedroom? We can spread out, get more comfortable.”
“I'd love that, Jake, but I'm so tired. I'm not sure I can move.”
Pulling back to look at her, he frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiled, caressing his face lovingly.
Jake gazed into her eyes. She'd been lucid since he brought her here, but now, something wasn't right.
She hiccupped and grabbed her mouth, eyes widening.
“You okay?”
“No!” Still holding her mouth, Joss made a gagging sound, and Jake rolled off in an instant. “Oh, God!” she muttered, running for the bathroom.
Right behind her, he watched her kneel in front of the toilet and throw up. She retched twice
“This is Susie,” announced a voice on the line.
“Susie, hi. This is Detective Jake Gilford with the Kansas City Police Department. I got your number from Betty, at the law offices of Roland Watkins and Associates.”
“Sure! What can I do for you, Detective?”
“I see the name of Eugene Tuttle on the directory here, same floor as Watkins. What can you tell me about him?”
“Eugene Tuttle,” she repeated. “Let me check.”
He heard computer clicks and beeps.
“Tuttle signed the lease six months ago, for two years.”
“ Suite 415 ?”
“Yes.”
He moved down the hall. “That's what the directory says, but I don't see any signs of life in 415. I'm in front of the door now. There's no name or anything.”
“Evidently, he hasn't moved in yet.”
“After six months? Isn't that strange? I can't imagine the rent is cheap here.”
She chuckled. “No, it's not. But it's not that strange. Sometimes people start a business, which doesn't work out. Then there are people who rent space to have an address, but never actually move in. We don't like that, but it happens.”
“Tuttle hasn't contacted you to get out of his lease?”
“Not that I'm aware of. I'm sure I'd know. I handle the accounts.”
“Do you know if he gets mail here?”
“I don't. We wouldn't know that. The post office might be able to help you.”
“Okay, thanks, Susie. I appreciate it.”
“You bet, anytime.”
He snapped his phone shut, shoved it in his pocket. Next stop—post office .
The post office clerk was not as forthcoming with information as she could have been, Jake decided. He tossed a few names around, and had to mention getting a subpoena before the woman agreed to look up the address. Mail for Eugene Tuttle's office had indeed been forwarded to a post office box, number 272, located in the substation where they stood. Security cameras covered all the boxes, but to see the tapes would require a court order.
Jake hummed as he returned to the department. He could get a court order. A long shot, but a risk he felt worth taking. Something about Save Our Wildlife smelled fishy. He smiled at his own pun.
He arranged for the court order, then touched base with the members of the surveillance unit scheduled to meet him at the mansion for the night. Confident their plan was in place, he signed out mid-afternoon. He'd be working all night; he wanted to take some time off before then.
He found Joss asleep on the sofa when he arrived home. He sat on the edge next to her hip, ran a hand over her hair. “Hey, sleeping beauty. I'm home.”
She stretched, yawned, but didn't open her eyes. “Prince Charming?”
“Yep, that's me. If you keep your eyes closed, that is.”
She smiled and opened them. “No way. I love looking at you. I could look at you all day long.”
He leaned in, pressing a light kiss to her lips. “Gee, that sounds boring. I could think of many more interesting ways to pass the time.”
Joss slid her arms around his neck. “Tell me some.”
His mouth moved to her neck. “Do you really want to talk? Cause I can talk, if you like.”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “Don't talk. Kiss. Keep kissing, don't stop.”
He smirked and kissed his way around her neck until he reached her other ear. “Why don't we move this party to the bedroom? We can spread out, get more comfortable.”
“I'd love that, Jake, but I'm so tired. I'm not sure I can move.”
Pulling back to look at her, he frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiled, caressing his face lovingly.
Jake gazed into her eyes. She'd been lucid since he brought her here, but now, something wasn't right.
She hiccupped and grabbed her mouth, eyes widening.
“You okay?”
“No!” Still holding her mouth, Joss made a gagging sound, and Jake rolled off in an instant. “Oh, God!” she muttered, running for the bathroom.
Right behind her, he watched her kneel in front of the toilet and throw up. She retched twice
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