Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (best thriller books to read .txt) 📕

“Now?”

“No. If it’s not a problem, I would like to borrow a key and come back later to have a look at it. I don’t need you to be there. If you have no objection, of course.”

He looked put out but got up and went to find the key. He pulled it from a drawer and handed it to me. “I don’t know what you hope to find there after twelve years, Detective.”

“Neither do I, Mr. Smith. But you’ll be the first to know when I find it.”

The door closed behind us, and we stood on his porch. Dehan zipped up her jacket, and I looked across the road. The drizzle had turned to steady rain. Bob was watching us and raised a hand to wave. I didn’t wave back. I hunched my shoulders and ran to the car.

We sat for a moment, listening to the hollow drumming on the roof.

“Impressions?”

“Why do women put up with guys like that?”

“That may, or may not, be relevant, little grasshopper.”

She sighed. “I know.” She gazed out at the rain making ever expanding rings in the puddles. I watched her with the dull light on her face. “I’d like to believe he got home, chopped somebody’s arms off, stuck them in his lockup, and then called the cops. But I have to admit it’s highly improbable. Plus, I feel he was telling the truth.”

I turned the key in the ignition and pulled away into the road. “Feelings are notoriously unreliable. Even women’s feelings. Whatever our mythology may say about your intuition, it is highly fallible. That may be exactly what he did. You want to know what I saw?”

She looked at me. “You didn’t feel, you saw. You are such a guy.”

“I saw him go rigid every time his wife spoke. I also saw her cowering every time he addressed her. And I saw that he only ever addressed her to put her down.”

I turned into Lafayette. She was nodding, like I didn’t “get” her. “See?” she said. “That, all that, is what I felt.”

“Quit making excuses. You want to be a psychic, feel. You want to be a cop, translate those feelings into analysis. That means pictures and words.”

“You are so harsh.”

“Your Honor, I just kinda felt like he was a bad guy. Call it a woman’s in-choo-ishun.”

“Take a hike.”

Two

We spent most of the day doing background research. I wanted to know about the CAC Corporation and Peter’s role in it over the last twelve years, and I had Dehan looking into who owned the other lockups in the alley.

At lunch I went to get some beef sandwiches from the deli, and we sat in the gray light from the window and chewed in silence for a bit.

“I went to see the new captain, John Newman,” I said after a bit. She glanced at me but kept chewing. “Nice guy. I asked him what he wanted to do with the cold cases. If he wanted us to keep going or return to regular cases.”

“What did he say?”

I made a smile that was rueful. “He said we made such an awesome success of the Nelson case, he wants us to keep going for now.” She rolled her eyes but didn’t look too upset. After a bit I added, “I told him, you know, I’m a dinosaur, but you, you’re young, you’re smart, you want to be building a career.” She gave me the dead eye and bit into her sandwich. “But he said it would look good on your CV and he’d review it in six months.”

She said, “What? I’m no good as a partner? You want to get rid of me?”

“Don’t be stupid, Dehan. I’m looking out for you.”

“Like my dad?”

“No… Well, kind of, but no. Like your partner. You could thank me.”

“Thanks. But don’t. I want a transfer, I’ll ask for one.”

We returned to our research. I glanced at her. She seemed to be smiling. I said, “Gets dark about six. We’ll head over to view the lockup at a quarter to.”

“You want to view it in the dark?”

“Yup.”

“Don’t tell me why. I can figure it out.”

“Good.”

It had stopped raining by six, but the air was cold and the occasional icy drip brushed your face or made small ripples in the puddles. We left the car on Barkley Avenue and entered the alleyway on foot. It formed a dogleg to the left, where one tall lamppost cast a dispirited, yellow light on the blacktop. It was quiet, and our footsteps echoed loud in the dark stillness.

We came around the corner, and I stopped. On either side of the alley there were red brick walls to a height of maybe eight feet. Fairly dense evergreens topped the walls most of the way along. There were eight units either side, with roll-down metal doors. The lighting here was not much better. Three lamps were bolted to the facades and cast a dead, yellow light that made the shadows seem deeper.

I retraced my steps and took a look back at the road. It was brightly lit and busy. I said to Dehan, “How busy do you figure it is on the weekend?”

She walked back to join me. “Saturday, busy. Sunday it’s probably pretty quiet, especially at night.”

I nodded. “So, I’m trying to figure out what happened here. What have I done? I’ve brought the arms in the trunk of my car. I’ve parked down there on Barkley Avenue, what, fifty yards from the cop shop? I’ve taken the arms out of my trunk, or from the back seat of my car, and I have brought them into this alley.”

Dehan was staring, like she could see the car parked, down there, by the road. “Have you got them