Read Online The Mentor by Rita Carla Francesca Monticelli - Free Book Online Page B

Adele had a video surveillance system. His hand, holding the key, was frozen halfway between them. It took him a beat to remember that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Except maybe touching the mouse. Adele’s snarky expression erased any lingering doubts.
    She was kidding.
    Adele took the key, her fingers brushing his hand. At that very moment the doors to the elevator opened. Miriam and Jane were standing inside.
    Eric and Adele were caught both holding the key between them. Miriam’s expression hardened, while Jane’s mouth split into a smile. Shaw quickly dropped the key and got busy adjusting his wrist lapels.
    “Just the man we were looking for,” exclaimed Jane, stepping out of the elevator. She squinted in an expression of disdain.
    In the meantime, Adele had gone back to fiddling with her tablet and stepped quickly into the elevator. Miriam glared at her crosswise, then exited after Jane. Adele reached out, pressed a button, and the door closed.
    Miriam Leroux was staring at Eric insistently. “They told us you were in the morgue. Discover anything interesting?”
    Despite the question, he had the distinct impression the young detective wasn’t all that interested in the investigation just then.
    “Did you see Adele’s reconstruction?” asked Jane. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
    Miriam skewered her with a glare, but Jane ignored her companion.
    “Yes, well . . .” Eric paused for a moment. When he’d arrived at the office, he hadn’t seen Jane, and then he’d gone straight down to the morgue. How did she know about the reconstruction?
    Then his second in command raised her hand with her smartphone in it. “She sent it to me five minutes ago.”
    “Sooner or later I’m going to have to buy one of those infernal things too,” he admitted. Yes. Talking was a good idea. “Lately I’ve had the impression that I’m always one step behind the rest of you.”
    Jane laughed, and even Miriam seemed to relax a little. But she still didn’t seem like she was in much of a good mood.
    “Don’t be silly, Eric,” said the criminologist, slapping him on the back. “You’re always two steps ahead of the rest of us put together. Don’t you think?” she concluded, turning to Miriam.
    “So, what’s the news?” said Leroux.
    “Appears we’re looking for a woman,” said Eric, giving her an authoritative stare. It seemed like just the other day he was giving Miriam dolls for her birthday. He had been a sort of uncle to her, practically a member of the family, but that didn’t give her the right to behave like this in the workplace.
    “A woman?” Miriam’s curiosity seemed to get the better of her outrage.
    “It looks like he was kicked with a woman’s shoe,” explained Eric. “Of course it could be a man wearing pointy shoes, but this element along with the shot to the groin gives us something to think about.”
    “An abused victim? Rape?” The detective’s hand moved to the hilt of her pistol. She moved her head a little in a sort of nervous tic, then let go of the gun and straightened out her arm again.
    “You tell me,” he responded.
    “We haven’t found anything like that in Johnson’s past yet,” said Miriam, massaging her right wrist. “But maybe we should dig a little deeper.”
    “An extremely meticulous woman who loves tea,” said Jane. She had listened to them in silence up until that point. The other two turned to look at her. The criminologist showed them a photograph on her cell phone. They could see a table with an empty teacup on it. Jane swiped to the next photo: two tea filters in the garbage. “Evidently two people drank tea that day.” She paused briefly for effect. “But we only found one teacup.”
    “Maybe Thompson just loved really strong tea,” said Eric, shouldering the role of devil’s advocate.
    Jane lifted up a finger to silence him. “We checked the dish rack and found four other teacups and four little plates just like this one. Add the one on the