Read Online Shades of Murder (The Mac Faraday Mysteries) by Lauren Carr - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lauren Carr
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this painting.
But Ilysa’s throat wasn’t slashed. She was bludgeoned to death with a hammer. So she didn’t predict her own murder.
“Why don’t you go back to bed?” Archie startled him out of his thoughts when she slipped onto the sofa next to him. She had on the same rose-colored bathrobe she had worn the night before.
Mac remembered his pleasure when she had slipped it off the night before, and how she had consumed him, as she always did ... afterwhich, she slipped away in the middle of the night to return to her cottage.
“I got lonely,” he said in a tone devoid of any signs of pouting.
“Do you want me to keep you company?” she asked in a playful tone.
“That’s a very tempting offer, but Bogie and David are coming by. They’re taking me to go look at the Ramsay crime scene.”
“Then you’re being invited onto the case. That’s good.”
With pride in his voice, Mac told her, “David is taking me on as a contractor.”
“Contractor?”
“Only for this case,” he said. “He can do that since I’m certified for law enforcement. I may be retired, but my state credentials are up to date. Who knows? Maybe I’ll decide I’m not cut out to be a rich retired millionaire.”
She slipped her hand into his robe to brush her fingers across his chest. “When are they coming?”
“A couple of hours.” He didn’t object when she slid over to press her body to his.
“Do you want to go back to bed?”
“Maybe.” He was coy. “You know, you’re allowed to stay the night with me. You don’t have to keep slipping out in the middle of the night like some vampire that needs to get back to her coffin before sunrise.”
“I know.” Taking his hand, she led him to the stairs.
“Then why do you?”
“Because I’m more comfortable in my own bed.”
“I’ll come sleep over there.”
On the stairs, she whirled around. “And leave Gnarly here by himself?”
“I’ll bring him with me. He can chaperone.”
“Yeah, I can see he’ll make a great chaperone,” she noted with sarcasm while pointing out that Gnarly was already stretched out on the sofa that they had just vacated.
“I think about that day every time I drive past this place,” Bogie told Mac and David when they stepped out of his cruiser at the Hathaway estate.
With most of its citizens listed in Who’s Who , Spencer was considered uptown from nearby McHenry and Oakland. Pelican Court’s sole resident was a step above that. The sprawling mansion, tennis courts, pool, and gardens made Spencer Manor look like a child’s back yard playhouse.
With a somber expression that made his bushy mustache press up his nostrils, Bogie peered up at the studio where Ilysa Ramsay was murdered.
Mac followed his gaze to the building looking out over the lake. “That’s not a guest house,” Bogie said. “It’s a five-car underground garage. Ramsay’s art studio was upstairs. She had a kitchenette and bedroom in the loft. She practically lived up there when she was painting, which was that whole summer.”
David added, “Neal Hathaway found her body.”
Bogie told Mac, “Hathaway states that she had slipped out of bed during the night to go to the studio to paint. That was not unusual. When she’d get tired, she would go to bed up in the loft. Hathaway got up that morning and went looking for her. That was when he found her.”
“May I help you?” the maid called out to them from the front door.
“Good morning, Greta,” Bogie strode up to the porch. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Deputy Chief Art Bogart.”
“I remember you.” She looked each of them up and down. When she came to Mac’s unfamiliar face, she kept her gaze on him.
When he had been a homicide detective, Mac discovered that housekeeping staff made invaluable witnesses. Good domestic employees make a point of being practically invisible while noticing everything. It’s a necessity in order to meet their employers’ every need without
But Ilysa’s throat wasn’t slashed. She was bludgeoned to death with a hammer. So she didn’t predict her own murder.
“Why don’t you go back to bed?” Archie startled him out of his thoughts when she slipped onto the sofa next to him. She had on the same rose-colored bathrobe she had worn the night before.
Mac remembered his pleasure when she had slipped it off the night before, and how she had consumed him, as she always did ... afterwhich, she slipped away in the middle of the night to return to her cottage.
“I got lonely,” he said in a tone devoid of any signs of pouting.
“Do you want me to keep you company?” she asked in a playful tone.
“That’s a very tempting offer, but Bogie and David are coming by. They’re taking me to go look at the Ramsay crime scene.”
“Then you’re being invited onto the case. That’s good.”
With pride in his voice, Mac told her, “David is taking me on as a contractor.”
“Contractor?”
“Only for this case,” he said. “He can do that since I’m certified for law enforcement. I may be retired, but my state credentials are up to date. Who knows? Maybe I’ll decide I’m not cut out to be a rich retired millionaire.”
She slipped her hand into his robe to brush her fingers across his chest. “When are they coming?”
“A couple of hours.” He didn’t object when she slid over to press her body to his.
“Do you want to go back to bed?”
“Maybe.” He was coy. “You know, you’re allowed to stay the night with me. You don’t have to keep slipping out in the middle of the night like some vampire that needs to get back to her coffin before sunrise.”
“I know.” Taking his hand, she led him to the stairs.
“Then why do you?”
“Because I’m more comfortable in my own bed.”
“I’ll come sleep over there.”
On the stairs, she whirled around. “And leave Gnarly here by himself?”
“I’ll bring him with me. He can chaperone.”
“Yeah, I can see he’ll make a great chaperone,” she noted with sarcasm while pointing out that Gnarly was already stretched out on the sofa that they had just vacated.
“I think about that day every time I drive past this place,” Bogie told Mac and David when they stepped out of his cruiser at the Hathaway estate.
With most of its citizens listed in Who’s Who , Spencer was considered uptown from nearby McHenry and Oakland. Pelican Court’s sole resident was a step above that. The sprawling mansion, tennis courts, pool, and gardens made Spencer Manor look like a child’s back yard playhouse.
With a somber expression that made his bushy mustache press up his nostrils, Bogie peered up at the studio where Ilysa Ramsay was murdered.
Mac followed his gaze to the building looking out over the lake. “That’s not a guest house,” Bogie said. “It’s a five-car underground garage. Ramsay’s art studio was upstairs. She had a kitchenette and bedroom in the loft. She practically lived up there when she was painting, which was that whole summer.”
David added, “Neal Hathaway found her body.”
Bogie told Mac, “Hathaway states that she had slipped out of bed during the night to go to the studio to paint. That was not unusual. When she’d get tired, she would go to bed up in the loft. Hathaway got up that morning and went looking for her. That was when he found her.”
“May I help you?” the maid called out to them from the front door.
“Good morning, Greta,” Bogie strode up to the porch. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Deputy Chief Art Bogart.”
“I remember you.” She looked each of them up and down. When she came to Mac’s unfamiliar face, she kept her gaze on him.
When he had been a homicide detective, Mac discovered that housekeeping staff made invaluable witnesses. Good domestic employees make a point of being practically invisible while noticing everything. It’s a necessity in order to meet their employers’ every need without
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