The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33 by Nic Saint (interesting novels in english txt) 📕

He blinked. “Okay.”

“So now the police think that Joshua wanted to get rid of him once and for all.”

Mr. Myers scooted forward and fixed Odelia with a serious look. “Do you believe he’s guilty, Miss Poole?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure.”

“Well, I am. Joshua didn’t do it. No way in hell is that man capable of murdering three people in cold blood.”

“Even if he thought he was doing it to save his best friend’s marriage?”

Mr. Myers sat back again, and shook his head. “It all seems a little extreme.”

“Just a routine question, if I may, but where were you last night, Mr. Myers? Around midnight, let’s say?”

He produced a weak smile. “Are you accusing me of going after my wife’s lover now?”

“Not at all. Just dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s.”

“Well, I was here all night, and so was my wife, by the way. We watched a movie and then went to bed. By the time I turned off the lights it was after midnight.”

“Can anyone confirm that?”

He glanced out at his two boys. “I can vouch for my wife, and she can vouch for me. Isn’t that enough?”

Chapter 19

Vesta still felt a little guilty about the role she’d played in the capture of Joshua Curtis, her granddaughter’s client.

“It just isn’t right, Scarlett,” she told her friend as the twosome rode in her daughter’s little red Peugeot Vesta liked to use. “If Odelia represents this guy that means he’s innocent. I know my granddaughter. She would never defend a killer. And if only I’d known he was her client, I’d never have told my son about him. No way.”

“You would have let that building burn to the ground?” asked Scarlett, who clearly wasn’t fully on board with this mission yet.

“Oh, I would have called 911 for sure,” said Vesta, “but I wouldn’t have mentioned seeing Joshua.”

They were on their way to Joshua’s house right now, since Vesta felt they’d gotten the guy into the soup, and now it was up to them to get him out again.

“Look, I don’t feel good about this, Vesta,” said Scarlett, “I’ll be honest with you. If we get caught…”

“If we get caught I’ll just tell those cops that we’re working under Odelia’s instructions.”

“But we’re not!”

“Technically, maybe, but in the spirit of the thing we’re fighting on her side.”

“What side? The guy is obviously guilty. You saw him come out of that building.”

“Just because the man came out of the building doesn’t mean he’s a killer,” Vesta insisted. “He could have just been there to, well…”

“To do what? Pay a house call? I didn’t even know notary clerks made house calls. But even they do, they damn well don’t make them in the middle of the night.”

“Look, I’ll admit that I don’t know what the guy was doing there. But I’m sure he had a good reason, and I’m sure in due course he’ll tell Odelia, who’ll tell us, and then I’ll prove to you that what we’re doing is right and just and—holy crap will you look at that?”

She was referring to the pileup that involved no less than two police cars and three regular cars. The police cars still had their lights a-flashing, but clearly that hadn’t done them any good.

“Probably on their way to Joshua Curtis’s house,” said Scarlett.

“Then we better make sure we get there first,” said Vesta, and stomped the accelerator practically through the floor of the aged car.

Moments later they arrived in a cul-de-sac and parked in front of a nice little house with a neat little front yard. It even had a select smattering of garden gnomes livening things up, something which would have pleased Vesta’s son-in-law to no end.

“Let’s do this,” she announced as she got out of the car.

“How are we going to get in?” asked Scarlett as she tiptoed up to the house, as if afraid someone might hear her. As usual, she was dressed in a tight miniskirt and crop top, her high heels making it a little hard for her to remain inconspicuous, as did her choice of clothes. Vesta, on the other hand, was dressed for the job: a gray tracksuit with yellow trim, and sneakers.

“I got a set of master keys,” said Vesta, as she held up the set proudly.

When Scarlett looked a little closer, she frowned and said, “That’s not a master key set. That’s a set of lock picks.”

“It was called a master key set on eBay, so that’s what it is.” She picked a small sharp instrument from the collection and inserted it into the keyhole. It looked like something a surgeon would use to poke a hole in a person. “There was an instruction manual included,” she explained as she inserted a second sharp instrument and started jiggling.

“Who was the seller? Burglars, Inc?”

“Probably,” said Vesta as she stuck her tongue out and jiggled away to her heart’s content. “The trick is in the jiggling,” she explained. “If you jiggle long enough, something has to give.”

Unfortunately nobody had relayed this information to the lock, which remained unwilling to play ball.

“Maybe we’ll have a look around the back,” she said after a while. “Before the neighbors file a report.”

So they moved around the house and found themselves in an equally neat backyard with a small porch and Vesta repeated the trick with the instruments. Finally, when she didn’t have more luck than at the front door, Scarlett said, annoyed, “Just let me try. Jiggling comes naturally to me.” But instead of taking advantage of Vesta’s master key set, she put her shoulder against the door, her hand on the handle, and gave it a hard push. Something budged, and suddenly the door swung open.

“How the hell did you do that?!” asked Vesta.

“You just need the right approach,” said Scarlett.

“That door is probably male,” said Vesta as both women pushed inside.

The house itself was as clean and neat as the outside had promised, and as Vesta took the ground floor, Scarlett moved up the stairs to check around.

“What are