Read Online Shadow of Death by William G. Tapply - Free Book Online

kitchen,” she said. “I toasted some English muffins.”
    I followed her through the house to the kitchen in back and sat at the table.
    Ellen poured us coffee, put a plate of muffins and a jar of marmalade on the table, and sat across from me.
    â€œEllen,” I said, “about Albert—”
    â€œFirst,” she said, “tell me about the detective.”
    So I told her how Gordon Cahill’s front tire had been blown out by a load of buckshot, how he’d died in a fiery crash, and how, the afternoon before that happened, he’d sent me a collection of stuff about Albert via e-mail.
    Ellen was shaking her head as I talked. When I finished, she said, “You can’t think Albert had anything to do with that.”
    â€œI don’t know whether he did or not,” I said. “But I definitely think he should talk to the police. Roger Horowitz is on the case.”
    â€œYes,” she murmured. “I know Detective Horowitz. He’s dogged.”
    â€œHorowitz will make the connection to Albert sooner or later,” I said. “Our best chance for keeping it, um, discreet is if Albert goes to Horowitz rather than waiting for Horowitz to catch up with Albert.”
    â€œThat would mean telling Albert …”
    â€œThat you hired a detective to follow him. Yes, I guess it would.”
    â€œIf any of this got out, Jimmy would blow a gasket.”
    I shrugged. “A man was murdered.”
    â€œI’m sure Albert had nothing to do with that.”

    â€œHe’s got a motive,” I said.
    â€œHe’s got something to hide, you think?” she said. “So he kills the private investigator who’s spying on him?” She let out a short laugh. “That’s absurd.”
    I thought about asking Ellen whether she had any suspicion that Albert was fooling around with boys, but it seemed pointless and unnecessarily hurtful.
    â€œIt’s you and Jimmy who seem to think Albert might have something to hide,” I said. “Many murders have been committed to protect secrets.”
    She shook her head. “Not Albert. He couldn’t hurt anybody.”
    â€œHow many gentle, mild-mannered folks have you prosecuted for murder?” I said.
    She looked down at the table and shrugged. “Point taken.”
    â€œEllen,” I said, “what the hell is going on? Where’s Albert?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œHe’s disappeared?”
    â€œSort of, I guess.”
    â€œHas he ever—?”
    â€œWhat, disappeared?” She shrugged. “Albert goes off by himself sometimes, if that’s what you mean. More often lately. Since the campaign. But you know him. He’s in his own head most of the time. He goes off hunting and fishing, or looking for collections of old documents, or he gets involved in his writing, and sometimes he loses track of the time. If he doesn’t come home some night, I don’t think much about it. I don’t necessarily expect him to call, and more often than not he doesn’t. Both of us, we’ve always been independent like that. He’s got his life, I’ve got mine, and they’re different lives, different worlds. We’ve always felt
that we enrich each other. We laugh sometimes about how it would be if I were an academic like him, or if he were a prosecutor like me. We figure we’d’ve been divorced years ago.” She smiled. “Our lives intersect in a lot of places, too. It’s a good marriage, Brady. Different from most. Good, though.” She looked at me and smiled. “Very good.”
    â€œBut …”
    She nodded. “Recently he’s been different, like I told you the other day. Maybe it’s just the campaign. Hiring the detective was Jimmy’s idea.”
    â€œYou haven’t seen him since when?”
    â€œFriday morning. We sat right here and had breakfast together.”
    â€œDid he say