Read Online See Also Murder by Larry D. Sweazy - Free Book Online Page A

your shoes, Raymond. But you needn’t worry; I’ll go there myself and talk to him.”
    He stared at the amulet, tightened his grasp on it. I half expected him to run off with it, to play a game of keep away like I had seen him do so many times at family reunions when we were children.
    I didn’t budge and did not withdraw my hand until the amulet was securely in my possession. I wrapped it up in the linen, tucked it back in my purse, and headed for the door.
    â€œThe book?” I asked, before I walked outside. “What was the title?”
    â€œAh, Larrson’s, The Book of Norse Symbols . A small printing. 1901. A first edition, I might add. I’ve had it in my collection for some time, but I’ve never cracked it open until now.”
    â€œThe library didn’t have it,” I said, running through the titles in my mind that Calla had brought me. “How do you spell the last name?”
    â€œNo, I don’t imagine they had it. Larrson with two Rs, but that shouldn’t have mattered.”
    I was glad to step out into the fresh air. Raymond watched me leave, but said nothing further. Which was just as well as far as I was concerned. His lack of mention concerning Hank didn’t surprise me, but it rubbed my craw.
    I expected nothing less, though it would’ve been pleasant if a member of my own family expressed an interest or a hint of caring about Hank, but that was just wishful thinking.
    The only thing I knew to do was flee Raymond’s presence as fast as I could.

CHAPTER 8
    I rang the doorbell on Professor Strand’s door not two minutes after leaving Raymond’s house. I could hear the phone already ringing inside. The stoop had dried from the rain, but the leaves of a potted geranium still bore water drops.
    I hesitated to press the doorbell again after hearing the phone ring on persistently, but I felt I had no choice. I wanted to reach Professor Strand before Raymond did.
    But in the end, it turned out that the professor was not at home. I stood at the door for another five minutes, listening impatiently to the phone screaming to be picked up. I should have asked Calla for a couple of cigarettes, or stopped and bought some of my own, but I hadn’t. I could use some calming down. Raymond was as frustrating as ever, and if I had it to do all over again, I would never have shown up at his door in the first place.
    From there I drove to the campus’s administrator’s office to find out if the professor was teaching a class. He wasn’t, I was told by a snippy woman outside the dean’s office. Professor Strand had a class scheduled later in the afternoon, and when I pressed I was told that no one in the office knew where the professor was, nor was it a concern.
    It seemed that I had no choice but to wait for a couple of hours or to head back home. I decided to go home—with a couple of stops in between.
    Once I got back in the truck, I sat there for a second, letting everything Raymond told me settle in. I reached in my purse, pulled out my notebook, and scribbled down some more notes: the name of the book Raymond had used and the fact that Hilo had not told me about the theft were my main topics.
    Satisfied that I wouldn’t forget anything, I drove off the university campus without looking back. My discomfort of the place had only been reinforced.
    I stopped at the payphone outside the Rexall again, only this time I called Calla at the library. I knew I should have driven straight home, but I had another nagging feeling in my stomach, like I’d missed something this time, not so much that there was anything wrong.
    As always, Calla answered the phone. “Library, how may I help you?”
    â€œHi, Calla, this is Marjorie. I need you to check on something for me.”
    â€œSure thing, what do you need?”
    â€œCan you check on a book, The Book of Norse Symbols , for me? The author’s name is Larrson. Two Rs. I