Read Online Silent Weapon by Debra Webb - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Debra Webb
Tags: Suspense
Ads: Link
than I’d realized or that I’d left out something pertinent.
Had I failed the test? It was difficult to gauge since I didn’t really know what precise milestones or standards were included in the test.
I felt relatively confident about how much of the meeting I had recalled, but that didn’t mean I’d recited what they wanted to hear. Was I supposed to have made some sort of final conclusions or assessments? I didn’t think so.
Excuse us a moment, Miss Walters, Chief Kent said. He and Chief Adcock stood and moved to the far side of the room, turning their backs to me once more, ensuring I didn’t eavesdrop on their conversation.
I glanced at Detective Barlow, but he didn’t meet my gaze. The tension twisting inside me mounted. What was up with this? I resisted the urge to squirm in my seat. I did smooth my skirt, before clasping my hands in my lap. I wondered briefly if Sarah waited for me outside. Then I speculated as to whether or not she’d called my folks and relayed the latest in the saga of Merri Walters’s doomed career moves.
I looked up when the two chiefs approached the table once more. I guessed now I would learn my fate.
Miss Walters, Chief Kent said as he sat down, we have a rather unorthodox offer to make you.
When the chief’s gaze shot to his right, to Detective Barlow, I turned in that direction as well.
I want it on the record, Barlow said without even a glance at me, that I object to this so-called unorthodox offer. His expression alone made it quite clear that he disagreed with whatever Chief Kent was about to propose.
Anticipation seared through my veins. What was going on here?
Your objection is noted, Adcock said. He did so rather pointedly, if the irritation lining his face was any measure.
A moment passed before Kent spoke again. If you choose not to accept this offer it will in no way affect your present position, Miss Walters.
He definitely had my attention now.
I moistened my lips and asked, “What sort of offer?” I felt my heart start to beat harder as I waited for him to explain. I couldn’t help hoping that somehow my unofficial investigation had actually put me in line for something more than filing records in the basement. If that proved the case, I had to say the two chiefs had taken the long way getting around to it.
I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Raby case, Chief Kent said, but Arthur Raby was one of the most highly respected pillars of this community until his death just over one year ago. In his life he served as a city councilman, deputy mayor and champion of numerous noble causes. No one loved this city more than Arthur Raby. I considered him one of my closest friends and confidants.
I remembered the name. Raby was shot down by an unknown assassin. His murder was thought to have been connected to his bucking a huge development planned by some corporation on the outskirts of Nashville. Raby had been working for years to help set up a new rent-to-own, so to speak, low-income housing development. The corporation, in contrast, wanted to build a golf course and high-end housing development. The hope was to begin to turn the south side of Nashville into another Franklin or Brentwood. I hadn’t kept up with the progress of either development after the initial flurry of news related to Raby’s murder, but I was pretty sure the golf course and mansions had won out over the proposed low-income housing. Seemed like people in the development business liked killing the competition. But this particular case was way bigger than Sawyer and Carlyle. Strip malls and apartment buildings were peanuts compared to the plans Arthur Raby had fought to derail. Bottom line: big-time real estate could be murder.
We, Chief Adcock said, drawing my attention back to the two men seated across the table from me, were unable to pursue the case as we would have liked since the Federal Bureau of Investigations had jurisdiction.
That surprised me, but I did vaguely recall
Had I failed the test? It was difficult to gauge since I didn’t really know what precise milestones or standards were included in the test.
I felt relatively confident about how much of the meeting I had recalled, but that didn’t mean I’d recited what they wanted to hear. Was I supposed to have made some sort of final conclusions or assessments? I didn’t think so.
Excuse us a moment, Miss Walters, Chief Kent said. He and Chief Adcock stood and moved to the far side of the room, turning their backs to me once more, ensuring I didn’t eavesdrop on their conversation.
I glanced at Detective Barlow, but he didn’t meet my gaze. The tension twisting inside me mounted. What was up with this? I resisted the urge to squirm in my seat. I did smooth my skirt, before clasping my hands in my lap. I wondered briefly if Sarah waited for me outside. Then I speculated as to whether or not she’d called my folks and relayed the latest in the saga of Merri Walters’s doomed career moves.
I looked up when the two chiefs approached the table once more. I guessed now I would learn my fate.
Miss Walters, Chief Kent said as he sat down, we have a rather unorthodox offer to make you.
When the chief’s gaze shot to his right, to Detective Barlow, I turned in that direction as well.
I want it on the record, Barlow said without even a glance at me, that I object to this so-called unorthodox offer. His expression alone made it quite clear that he disagreed with whatever Chief Kent was about to propose.
Anticipation seared through my veins. What was going on here?
Your objection is noted, Adcock said. He did so rather pointedly, if the irritation lining his face was any measure.
A moment passed before Kent spoke again. If you choose not to accept this offer it will in no way affect your present position, Miss Walters.
He definitely had my attention now.
I moistened my lips and asked, “What sort of offer?” I felt my heart start to beat harder as I waited for him to explain. I couldn’t help hoping that somehow my unofficial investigation had actually put me in line for something more than filing records in the basement. If that proved the case, I had to say the two chiefs had taken the long way getting around to it.
I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Raby case, Chief Kent said, but Arthur Raby was one of the most highly respected pillars of this community until his death just over one year ago. In his life he served as a city councilman, deputy mayor and champion of numerous noble causes. No one loved this city more than Arthur Raby. I considered him one of my closest friends and confidants.
I remembered the name. Raby was shot down by an unknown assassin. His murder was thought to have been connected to his bucking a huge development planned by some corporation on the outskirts of Nashville. Raby had been working for years to help set up a new rent-to-own, so to speak, low-income housing development. The corporation, in contrast, wanted to build a golf course and high-end housing development. The hope was to begin to turn the south side of Nashville into another Franklin or Brentwood. I hadn’t kept up with the progress of either development after the initial flurry of news related to Raby’s murder, but I was pretty sure the golf course and mansions had won out over the proposed low-income housing. Seemed like people in the development business liked killing the competition. But this particular case was way bigger than Sawyer and Carlyle. Strip malls and apartment buildings were peanuts compared to the plans Arthur Raby had fought to derail. Bottom line: big-time real estate could be murder.
We, Chief Adcock said, drawing my attention back to the two men seated across the table from me, were unable to pursue the case as we would have liked since the Federal Bureau of Investigations had jurisdiction.
That surprised me, but I did vaguely recall
Similar Books
