Secrets in a Still Life by Kari Ganske (mobi ebook reader .txt) 📕

this on your own. Next time you even think you find evidence, call me first. Your boyfriend was right about that."

I nodded but felt compelled to add, "Linc isn't my boyfriend. We knew each other in high school."

We turned to look back toward the kitchen where Linc paced back and forth with a scowl on his face. He ran a hand through his hair when he caught us looking his way.

"Huh," Detective Spaulding said. "Well then, he has some major big-brother issues happening where you're concerned."

"It's because I'm so short. People feel like they have to treat me like a child."

He looked down at me with his green eyes glowing. "Ms. Lightwood, you are anything but a child."

Then he left. Dazed, I wandered back to the kitchen. What did that even mean? If I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was flirting. But that was ridiculous since he totally thought I was a murderer.

"I don't like the way he looked at you," Linc said. "Like a predator."

"He is hunting a killer. And I keep putting myself in the crosshairs," I said, falling onto the couch beside Nana K. Without asking, Linc got me a bag of ice for my ankle. Ever the EMT. Although this time he handed it to me instead of applying it himself. He must really be angry.

"What did he say to you?" Colleen asked.

"He told me our assumptions were right," I said. "She was dragged." I frowned, realization dawning. "Would that eliminate Mike? Couldn't he carry her?"

"Maybe," Linc said. "Unless he was trying to hide her and not take her out of the forest completely. But," he added, holding up a finger when my eyes lit up, "I managed to drop Crystal's alibi into conversation with my nosiest neighbor. She confirmed Mike's car was parked in front of Crystal's house all day."

"Well, poo. Two suspects essentially crossed off the short list. Now I really need to talk to Becky and her ex-husband," I said, already forgetting the detective's warning to stay out of it.

Linc opened his mouth to undoubtedly remind me of that warning when Nana K piped up for the first time since the revelation of the locket. "In my experience, I find that people are often willing to let their guard down more around unassuming citizens and old ladies than the police. And there is no harm in being friendly and talking to folks. That's what we do in small towns."

"You aren't helping, Nana K," Linc said. "It isn't safe for Alex to be snooping around. For any of you to be."

"Talking, not snooping. You need to change your mindset," Nana K clarified.

"Unbelievable," Linc said, running his hands through his hair again.

"Okay. How about a compromise?" I said, trying to keep him from blowing a blood vessel. "You can be the one to ask Becky a few questions on Monday. I won't even open my mouth except in terms of the shoot."

He gave me a long look. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?" he finally asked.

I shook my head. "I can't."

"Fine. Not one word from you even if you think I'm not doing it right."

I mimed locking my lips with a key and throwing it over my shoulder.

"Sit down and have some chicken, Linc," Nana K said. "You're making us all nervous with your pacing."

He followed orders and sat on the other side of Nana K on the couch.

I tried to lighten the mood. "You'll never believe what Detective Spaulding said by the door."

"That he wants to show you how else he can use handcuffs?" Linc mumbled.

"What? Don't be ridiculous."

Nana K guessed, "That he wants to marry me and make my final years heaven on earth?"

"Not quite," I said, laughing. "He thought Linc was my boyfriend. Isn't that silly?"

Linc stood up from the couch abruptly. "Silly. Right." He stomped toward the door. "See you on Monday at the firehouse, Alex. Stay out of trouble until then. Fang, come."

The frame rattled as he slammed out the door. So much for lightening the mood.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

Colleen shrugged and heaped another scoop of coleslaw on her plate. Nana K sat back on the couch with a bemused smile on her face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 21

 

 

 

An obnoxious noise woke me out of a difficult dream. I reached over to silence my phone alarm, but no amount of button smashing would stop the intermittent noise. Groaning, I rubbed at my eyes. I had a moment of panic when I opened them in a strange room before remembering I was in the loft at the orchard. I glanced at the time on my phone and nearly fell out of bed. Six thirty in the morning. On a Sunday. I hadn't been awake this early on the weekend since my mother made me attend early morning Mass at St. Joseph's.

So, if the noise wasn't coming from my phone, where was it coming from? I went to the window to look outside. Below me a flock of chickens pecked around by my steps. As I watched, one particularly fluffy one stretched his neck and crowed. I'd found the source of my impromptu alarm clock—a rooster.

"Well, Lash," I said to my fish on the dresser beside me. "I guess farm animals are the trade-off for the amazing price of this place."

As I dropped some fish flakes into Lash's bowl, I added earplugs to my mental shopping list. A list growing exponentially each moment. A list I should probably consider transferring to a note in my phone so I didn't forget anything.

I shuffled into the kitchen to find some breakfast.

"Thank you, Mom, for knowing me so well," I said, as I pulled a box of sugary cereal from the cabinet.