Sweet Paradise by Gene Desrochers (most read books in the world of all time .txt) 📕

“Her name’s Annie,” Dana said with flaring annoyance.

Walter plowed on. “Maybe ‘cause the, the thing looks like a frying pan.” He gestured at one of the silvery drums on stage. “Heat that boy up and fry some johnny cakes right up.”

“Sure, Walter, that sounds about right,” I remarked.

“Hey, Boise, I was pondering about what you said earlier.”

“What was that, Walter?” I asked, going along with his constant use of everyone’s name.

“I’m going to hire you for Kendal. I’ll hire you. The paper,” he pointed out the front door. “They won’t pay for shit. But, I can do it. I can hire you. Tell you what, I’ll pay you eight-five per hour plus up to five-hundred a week in expenses. But here’s the kicker. If you get this bad boy solved in a week, I’ll throw in a nice bonus.”

I held up my hand. “Hold on, Walter, where’d you get eight-five?”

“It’s what my golf coach charges. I figured it was the going rate for private lessons of the investigative type, also.”

“You figured you’d pay me the same as a golf pro? Is your golf pro dealing with murder?”

He laughed. “You haven’t seen me hook a seven.”

“I work for one-fifty.” Really, I didn’t, but it seemed insulting that I was making the same as a golf pro who spent his days on manicured grass yelling “Fore!”

“One-hundred. Final offer. Oh, and I’m dropping the weekly expenses max to three-fifty. Besides, let me finish.” Walter paused

I waited.

He tilted his glass, and the ice cascaded into his face, crackling on the floor. “I’m em’py. Hang on.”

I grabbed his shoulder. “No, Walter, finish your offer. I want to know.”

He pulled away. Dana and Annie were caught up in their own little world. The live music had started, hypnotic drumming and a soft crooning by a woman with a gravelly voice. Walter returned.

“So, if I figure out what happened in the next week, yes?”

“I’ll throw in a thousand-dollar bonus. Cash bucks.” He pulled out his wallet and opened the flap showing four twenties and a five.

I stuck out my hand. He shook, a more watery shake than his usual manly pump. I tugged him close enough to smell his stale breath. “Are you going to remember this deal tomorrow?”

His eyes were sleepy as he muttered, “I’m drunk, but mind’s-till sharp.”

I held up my phone and hit record, holding it close to his mouth. “Repeat the deal.”

He did.

Walter left right after that. So did Annie and Dana.

Chapter 16

I‘d done it again. Somehow, despite swearing up and down I would not split my attention onto another case, Walter suckered me into it. The difference this time, I had a deadline to get that extra cash, which I needed. Despite two paying clients, I’d be back to zero before long. I was certain of it.

Dana called. She wanted to meet at my office.

“What’s with the door?” she asked.

After letting her in, I shut the door and joined her at my desk.

I started to sit but paused half-way down when she said, “Walter’s sleeping with the widow.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You followed him last night?”

“Yup,” she said, a shit-eating grin breaking on her face. She loved digging dirt. Not gossip, but real, case-altering dirt.

“Were you even drinking?”

“I stopped after my third. That’s the beauty of vodka, no one can tell if it’s water and the smell is light, so if I really am plastered, the cops can’t tell when they pull me over.” She winked at me. “Show some leg or boob,” she shifted her blouse slightly to the side, “and they give up fast. Too many sexual harassment lawsuits in the last ten years.”

“Back to Walter,” I said.

“Riiiiight. He’s banging the Widow Kendal. How very boss-like of him.”

“Does that feel like motive?”

“Motive? Hells, no! Walter? Come on, Jabuti. You think our Walter ... I was just ... well, shit, who knows. I didn’t think he slept with the employee’s wives, so what do I know?”

Dana rubbed her nose a few times. The tip was as red as her Carnegie Mellon cap, which was back in its proper place.

“Allergies?”

She blinked and curled her lips. “I guess. Anyways, old Walter must think he’s hiding things well, ‘cause he went straight to Kendal’s house after the memorial. For a newspaper man, he’s not keen on keeping his affairs secret.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t care if we know. Isn’t he single now?”

“Yup, but I doubt last night was their first time. He’s been banging her for a while. Did you see them at the bar?”

“I saw, but didn’t seem that obvious to me.”

She shook her head. “You men. What’s obvious, him rubbing his cock on her hip?”

“Sure, that’d do it,” I said grinning. “Really, though, you’re probably right. What’s this prove? Walter makes questionable life decisions and he got unlucky, probably. In that case, lock us all up. Really, this is just gossip for Robin to hash out in the ‘Island Waves’ column.”

“Right.”

The word hung there in the air between us. We were both thinking it. Sleeping with someone’s spouse was always, always, always a strong motive for murder. Did I stress always?

The motives were starting to pile up like cardboard recycling at the Bovoni landfill. Walter had motive for the Kendal murder. For that matter, so did I. Kendal was in my office, and it was no secret I didn’t much like him. He was helping Francine with her reparations, meaning anyone with motive to kill Francine had motive to kill Kendal through association.

“So, that’s how we got a hold of Kendal’s laptop so easily,” I said. “I mean, it did seem easy, but I wrote it off to her wanting to help figure out what happened. Speaking of motive, what do we know about the wife?”

Dana pulled a metal water bottle out of her bag, took a swig and rubbed her nose again. “I know she does something online. Some kind of sales.”

I pointed out the window, where Walter was picking his