Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries Box Set by Nanci Rathbun (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📕

“More than okay, Angie.” His voice trembled slightly and he rushed on. “It took a while, but I tracked down Hank’s other home in Stevens Point! He had a studio at a short-term place that caters mostly to people in transit.”

“Had? He’s not still there, then?” Disappointment seeped into my voice. I didn’t want Bobbie to hear that, not after he’d done the near-impossible. “Of course, we expected him to be long gone. You did great, Bobbie. Tell me more.”

“Well, I followed the leads that Devon gave me and also went the rounds of the listings in the Sunday paper. None of them panned out directly, so I went back to the diner where Hank used to get his morning coffee and ordered a late lunch.” He cleared his throat. “The waitress started to flirt with me and I confess that I led her on a little.”

Lots of women had that reaction to Bobbie. He came across as not macho, but not really gay. The term metrosexual fit him to a T. “Hope you let her down easy.”

“Soft as dandelion down. But while we were chatting, I asked her about lodgings in the area. Told her I was new to town and starting a job at the U on Monday, but I needed a cheap place to stay while I looked for new digs. She sent me to a boarding house nearby. The landlady was quite indignant when I showed her Hank’s picture. Seems he skipped out on December thirtieth, the day after Beltran’s death at Padua Manor. Came in that morning, packed a bag and brushed by her on the way out the door, ‘with barely more than a fare-thee-well.’ Her words.”

“Did he owe her?”

“Nope. He was paid up for the month. She was mostly upset that she was losing a good lodger. Said he never made a lot of noise and the rent was on time every month. He’d been there since October. That matches with his application and hire at the Manor, right?”

I checked my tablet. “That’s right,” I confirmed. “I wonder if he saw Willie going downhill back then and developed this elaborate plan to fake his own death.”

“That’s what I think, too. Guy was a real piece of work, wasn’t he?”

“Quite the tactician, that’s for sure.” Enough of one to enable Willie’s death in order to meet his own plan’s timeline, whatever that might be? “They say a chess master can visualize five or more moves ahead. I’d put Hank in that league.” I paused. “I’m thinking of our next moves, Bobbie. I’d bet money that Hank is no longer in Stevens Point. I just wish I could figure out where he’d go next.”

“Somewhere obscure,” Bobbie replied, “where he could blend in and disappear.” With a sigh, he added, “I think this trail is cold. Should I head back to the city?”

“Might as well.”

“I’ll check with Spider about dropping off the fingerprint device with Karl’s prints before I come into the office tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course. Take a couple of days off after that. You earned it. Another job well done, Bobbie!”

“Thanks, Ange. That means a lot to me. And I’m closing in on my hours to take the exam and get licensed, so I don’t mind a bit.”

“The time went by fast! We’ll need to schedule a meeting to discuss your performance and the testing requirements. Not to worry, though, I know you’re ready.”

I would make him an offer of employment, contingent on passing the exam and being licensed, when we sat down together. I smiled at what would undoubtedly be an over-the-top reaction.

Chapter 17

False face must hide what the false heart doth know. — William Shakespeare

Like Bobbie, I’d been putting in a lot of hours. I decided to take Monday morning off—one of the perks of owning your own business—and attend to grocery shopping. While I checked cupboards and fridge, preparing a list on my cellphone, its message indicator pinged. Spider’s text read: I ran the prints on Jorgensen. You’ll want to see this ASAP. It was addressed to both me and Bobbie.

Although I told Bobbie not to come into work today, I knew he’d want to be part of the discovery. In a few clicks, we arranged to meet Spider at the farmhouse at ten. Bobbie drove separately, since he had plans in Brookfield afterward.

The first words out of my mouth when Spider opened the door were, “Are they home?”

His eyebrows wiggled and he grinned. “Not ’til this afternoon. Meanwhile, with Joey in preschool this morning, I have a small window of time.” He reached for the pile of wrapped presents I carried and placed them on the kitchen table. “We didn’t expect that, Angie.”

“Shopping for babies again was so much fun! I need younger friends so I can do it more often.”

“Well, don’t wait for more from me and Magda. Three’s plenty, especially when they start coming in twos.”

A tap on the door heralded Bobbie’s entrance. “Hey, Daddy,” he greeted Spider. “How’s the family?”

“Everyone’s doing great,” he said. “But time’s a-wasting. Come in and let’s get started. I have an hour.” He gestured to the stairs and we went up to the bunker he called an office.

Once we settled around the computer, Spider turned to us with a sheepish look on his face. “Normally, you’d have known this on Saturday at the latest, but with the babies coming, I kinda let things slide. Sorry.”

“Spider, stop right now.” I gave him my no-nonsense mom look. “Whatever you found out, it’s not more important than being there for the births and taking care of your family afterward.”

“Right, man,” Bobbie agreed.

Spider gave a single nod, swung his chair to face the huge middle monitor and clicked on the desktop. Pictures of Hank Wagner and Karl Jorgensen opened, side by side. “Based on these, we surmised that Wagner and Jorgensen are the same person. But faces and pictures can be manipulated. Not fingerprints.” He clicked on