She Wore Mourning by P.D. Workman (best desktop ebook reader .txt) 📕

it was his own car. He looked around carefully before sliding the key into the lock and climbing in. He pulled the door shut and was effectively invisible to the crowds walking by.

He went directly to the glovebox for her log file. A ledger where she tracked all her mileage for tax purposes, with client codes and odometer readings noted in her precise printing. Kenzie would have approved. He scanned it for any unusual trips, any unaccounted jumps in the odometer. There was also a plastic sleeve containing all her latest expense receipts, and he thumbed through them carefully, his eyes quick. He looked up once to make sure that she wasn’t anywhere in sight. Returning to her car because she’d forgotten something inside. Unexpectedly finding The Jumping Bean closed because a plumbing line had flooded the cafe overnight. Anything could happen.

He checked the visor flaps for anything else of interest, ran his fingers along the cracks of the seats to see if anything had been dropped and lodged there. Poked through the garbage, but didn’t find anything other than a stray Twinkie wrapper. Her secret vice.

His search of the car complete, he climbed out, locked the doors again, and walked away.

Zachary sat in his recliner, the medical examiner’s report in his lap, a half-eaten lunch on the side table by his elbow. He had only done a page-flip of the medical examiner’s report, seeing how detailed it was and if anything jumped out at him. It was relatively short, a cursory review of what the police had said from the beginning was an accident, not a violent death or the mysterious death of a vital person struck down in their prime. The tests and notes all seemed to be routine.

Was there any point in doing more than that? He knew that Molly didn’t have much money to put into the investigation. A detailed review of the medical examiner’s report, all the police notes he could get his hands on, and re-interviewing everyone he would want to talk to in order to fully satisfy himself that it had been an accident would take a lot of hours and run up the bill unnecessarily.

His discussions with Spencer and Isabella hadn’t rung any alarm bells. They both seemed to be just what they were, parents grieving the unexpected loss of their only child, getting through it the best they could manage. There wasn’t any sign that it hadn’t been an accident.

Other than Molly’s assertion that the boy was afraid of water.

Spencer had shrugged the statement off, agreeing that Declan had a fear of water, but that it wouldn’t have prevented him from going near the water. Zachary didn’t think that either of them was lying; they were just interpreting him differently.

Zachary ran Kenzie’s business card through his fingers, feeling the smooth, sharp edge. Kenzie Kirsch. She had written another number on it; he assumed it was her home or cell number. It was kind of her to give it to him when she saw he was feeling bad. Did she want him to call, or was it just a gesture? He hadn’t asked her for her number. Women didn’t offer their numbers to men if they didn’t want them to call, did they?

Looking down at the medical examiner’s report, Zachary reached for his phone. He dialed her number quickly, already rehearsing what he was going to say. Starting conversations with women was not one of his strengths. Give him a suspect interview any day.

“Hello?”

“Um—Kenzie? It’s Zachary. Goldman Investigations.”

“Zachary! I’m glad you called.” He didn’t hear any deception in her voice. She sounded genuinely warm. “How are you?”

He listened for background noise that might indicate she was out with friends or a date or doing something she didn’t want interrupted.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry for how I was earlier. I… had something on my mind.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand. Everybody has a bad day now and then. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” There was a pause. He imagined her sitting by a roaring fire, having a sip of wine before bed. It was a nice image. “Did you have a chance to look at the medical examiner’s report yet?”

“Only a high-level review. Nothing that jumps out at me on a browse through. I’ll have to spend a few hours going through all the details… if I’m going to pursue the case.”

“I thought you had already taken the case?”

“I did. I mean… if I decide to take it any further. The grandmother, the one who hired me, I don’t think she has any means of support. Maybe her daughter is helping out with the bills.”

“She’s that artist on TV, right? The Happy Artist.”

“That’s the one.”

“She’s really popular. I bet she makes a ton of money.”

“They appear to be well-off, but the grandmother isn’t. If there’s nothing here to find… I’d just be stealing from her.”

“Dr. Wiltshire is very conscientious. I’m sure he wouldn’t have returned a finding of accidental drowning if he had any doubt.”

“No. I don’t want to imply he’s done anything wrong. The family just wants someone to go over everything one more time.”

“Do you want someone to go over the report with you? That would save you some time and help you decide if there was anything else to do.”

Zachary’s heart gave a couple of extra beats that almost hurt. “Would that somebody be you?” he suggested.

“It might be.” Kenzie’s voice was light and playful.

“Could this review be over dinner, maybe?”

“That would be nice.”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“Sure. Where do you want to meet?”

Hardly believing that such a thing was happening to him, Zachary came up with an acceptable restaurant and time, and they agreed to get together. After he had hung up the phone, Zachary closed his eyes and again pictured Kenzie all cozied up, sipping her glass of red wine.

Chapter Five

Zachary slept well for once, dreaming of Kenzie, so even though he awoke long before he wanted to be up, he felt lighter and more