Death on the Coast by M Comley (adventure books to read TXT) 📕

the living room? Don’t touch the railing, and wear hard-soled shoes. There’s broken glass,” he warned.

When she finally descended, Brendon motioned for her to go out the kitchen door, and she followed him to his squad car. He settled her in the back.

“I don’t like it back here,” she objected.

“It’s safe, and you can’t sit up front. Regulations. Now then, tell me exactly what happened.”

In the eerie combination of flashing red and blue headlights, Lucy told him the exact sequence of events after he’d left. “I thought it was Mark. I thought he might have been drunk and was coming to demand his things, but he has a key and he wouldn’t have left.”

Brendon half shrugged. “Not necessarily. Whoever it was, it looks like they tried to bash open the front door, probably using a shoulder, and when they failed, they smashed the door light and tried to reach through. All we’ve found so far is the door light glass. No sign they even got inside.”

“That doesn’t sound like Mark,” Lucy reasoned.

“No, and no offense, but he doesn’t have the bulk to do that kind of damage. No, this is someone else, so the question is, who? Were they trying to hurt you or was it a common thief chancing his luck?”

“Sergeant?” There was an officer standing next to the squad car, a piece of paper dangling from his gloved hand.

“Read it to me,” Brendon ordered, bearing in mind the chain of evidence.

Leave Greg alone and mind your own business.

“Thanks. Seal it up and add it to the evidence.” Brendon looked over the top of the front seat to the back, his glance segmented by the wire cage between the seats. “Sound like anyone you know?”

“Greg Dewhurst?” she ventured.

“I wouldn’t have thought so. He wouldn’t refer to himself in the third person.”

“If he didn’t, he’d have to sign it, which would be strictly funky, Brendon. Maybe he’s smart enough to refer to himself in the third person to throw you off the trail.”

Brendon bit his bottom lip, thinking. “Plausible, I suppose.”

“Likely, in my opinion. Listen, I forgot to tell you something when you were here earlier. Strictly speaking, it’s not against the law, but it did appear a bit suspicious.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I drove over to Angie’s house while Mark was at the precinct with you. I found Christine home, with a brand-new red Cadillac Escalade in her driveway. She was loading plastic tubs into the back.”

“Was the vehicle hers?”

Lucy considered his question. “Odd, but I didn’t think to ask that. I just commented that I didn’t realize she was in a position to pay for a vehicle like that. Angie told me more than once that Christine had no choice but to drive her old, dilapidated car due to their finances.”

“What did she say when you asked about the car?”

“Nothing. She refused to answer me.”

“Sounds suspicious.”

“That’s what I thought. Then I asked about the tubs, well, she saw me looking at them, and she said they were her mother’s things, about to be donated. I offered to help pack them, and she declined my offer and asked me to leave. Now, no one I know donates clothing in tubs. They might pack them into a trash bag, but tubs aren’t cheap and don’t make sense. I think she’s moving, Brendon.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

Irritation lined his voice.

“Since when is putting tubs into a car a crime?”

“Jesus, Lucy, but you are frustrating. Why is it you hold me to the letter of the law, but you just flaunt it when it suits your purpose?”

“Let’s not fight.”

“Not fighting. Just very surprised you didn’t mention it until now.”

“Well, if you remember, our conversation was centered on someone else.”

He was quiet and then nodded. “Fair enough. Any idea who might have a vehicle like that and would be willing to let her drive it?”

“Brendon, you know as well as I do you can’t even buy a car like that around here. No, I don’t know anyone who has one.”

“The tubs…did they appear heavy? Was she straining to carry them?”

“Are you asking me if there were pieces of a chopped-up body in them?” she asked, referring to the Hitchcock film.

“Look. The way I see it, the only thing standing between you and some serious trouble is me, so let’s keep the smart mouth to a minimum, shall we?”

They were bickering, but not about the topic at hand. They both knew that. It was the earlier conversation when they realized she would likely soon be a free woman. The tension between them was palpable as both of them tried to divert, resulting in the bickering that was faint-hearted and ignored.

“So, now what?”

“If you recall, I didn’t want you to get involved in this case to begin with. Do you remember that?” He was goading her.

“Yes, yes, yes, I remember,” she moaned, shaking her head. “But you know it’s my job.”

“Not really. It’s your job to report what goes down at the school board meeting, but not to run the schools, if you get my drift.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“Just this. You’re off this case. It is literally following you home. You’ve been threatened, your property damaged, and even if you’re not, I’d be nervous about taking showers or closing my eyes for the night.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, thanks a lot for that, Brendon.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied sarcastically. “Now, here’s the deal. My deputies will be here through most of the night, collecting evidence. They’ll be loud and it’s not a place that’s safe for you right now. I want you to grab some things and go stay with someone. Your sister, mother, one of your friends. Just until this is over.”

“That’s punishing me.”

“No one is punishing anyone. It’s called using caution to keep you safe. Want to come stay with me?” His words were hoarse, raw with emotion.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Anyway, you know how people talk.”

Brendon opened his mouth to say something, but he must