Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #2: Books 5-8 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (types of ebook readers txt) 📕

“That’s very commendable.”

“Looks like you’re going to be busy, so I have to find things to do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t mean nothin’, boss. You and Ms. Pearce, that’s Shelly to you, are going to be conducting your own private, exclusive investigation. I figured meantime I could become acquainted with Dave Thorndike’s work. His recent articles might give me a lead into what he was investigating.”

“Dehan, that is ridiculous.” She didn’t answer. She just kept reading, like I hadn’t spoken. I sighed. “I have Bob Shaw’s number. That call was from Pearce…”

“You mean Shelly.”

I sighed noisily. “She was calling to give me Bob Shaw’s number.”

“Cool.”

We sat in silence for a bit, her reading and me watching the back of her laptop. Finally, I said, “So I thought we could call him and go and see him this afternoon.”

“Cool. So when are you have your collaborative dinner?”

I counted slowly to five before answering. “This evening, at seven thirty.”

She clicked her wireless mouse and sat up. “You got time to interview a witness before you go? Don’t worry, if you’re busy with your investigation, I can take it myself.”

I frowned a frown that might have been a scowl. “What the hell are you talking about, Dehan? What witness?”

She fixed me with her big, dark eyes, stood, and walked to the printer, which had started to disgorge sheets of paper. She gathered them and brought them back to the desk where she started sorting them into stacks. I gestured at them.

“What’s this? Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“These are Dave Thorndike’s last three articles. I’ve printed two copies of each…” She paused while she stapled them into six documents and threw three of them across the desk at me. “These are for you. I’ve only glanced over them in the last ten minutes, but from what I’ve seen, they make interesting reading.”

“Okay…”

“The witness who’s on his way in is Bob Shaw.”

“What?”

Her cheeks flushed and her eyes shone. She grabbed a piece of paper from beside the phone, scrunched it into a ball and threw it at me. “He’s in the book. I called him while you were arranging dinner. He’ll be here in twenty minutes. Will you have time to attend the interview, Detective Stone?”

I stared at her. “Dehan, you are being ridiculous. What the hell is this about?”

“We’ve been here before, remember?”

I shook my head. “Where have we been before?”

“You see a hot piece of skirt and start sidelining me and cutting me out of the investigation. I don’t need it, Stone.”

“That is not what is happening.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Really? Didn’t I just sit and listen to you and Shelly Pearce arrange to go out to dinner to help each other in your mutual investigations?”

I sighed again. “Dehan, it just pays sometimes to be nice, rather than go storming in with the attitude…”

“Yeah? So how is your date tonight going to pay? By giving you Bob Shaw’s number?”

“Okay, you made your point.”

“Did I?” She sat forward and put her elbows on the desk. “I’m going to tell you something, then I’m going to ask you something.”

“Okay…”

“First, I guarantee that if—and it’s a big if, Stone—if you get any useful information from your date tonight, you will keep me out of the loop and act on it on your own, just like you did with Emma Girt in the Springfellow case[1], because… Ah! Forget it! But let me ask you a question, Stone. How difficult would it be—how much of a stretch would it be—for Shelly Pearce to become a suspect in this case?”

I was surprised by the question and allowed it to show on my face. The best I could manage was, “Um…”

“Let me tell you. She is the one person, after Bob Shaw, who was most likely to have access to Thorndike’s work. She was the person selected by the paper to investigate his death. Why? We don’t know. Why? Oh, yeah, because we didn’t ask her. Maybe you could ask her that on your date tonight. That is…” She held up both hands. “If it doesn’t screw up your date. I’d hate the investigation to get in the way of your date!” She made a labored face like she had suddenly realized something. “Huh! Maybe that’s why we are not supposed to date witnesses!”

We sat staring at each other for a long moment. “Are you done?”

She raised her eyebrow at me again. “I’m not sure I even got started yet, Stone.”

“You want to finish?”

“No, I’d rather you explain to me what the hell you think you’re doing dating a witness who is a potential suspect.”

I nodded. “Okay, I get it. I take your point. Now let me answer.”

“I can’t wait.”

“First, it is not a date. Okay? A date implies a sexual or romantic element. There is nothing like that here.”

“Oh, come on, Stone! How stupid do you think I am?”

“Let me finish. Second, there is a chance that Shelly Pearce has information about Dave Thorndike that she is not sharing. If that is so, the easiest way of getting that information is for me to be friendly with her. Third, please have sufficient trust—and respect—to know that I would not have an affair with a witness, much less a potential suspect.”

We stared at each other for a moment. She shook her head. “You were coming on to her, Stone.”

“No. She was coming on to me. I was flirting.”

“Great. Can you be objective about this woman?”

“Of course I can, Dehan!”

She pointed at me, and I was surprised to see real anger in her face, “The minute your feelings for this woman start to affect your judgment in