Murders & Romance: A Psychic Detective Romantic Mystery (Isaac Taylor Mysteries Book 5) by Lashell Collins (motivational books to read txt) 📕

“Let her.” Isaac shrugged a shoulder.

He and Gavin stared at each other for a moment.

“Well, thanks again for the heads up. I appreciate you letting me know. That way if IAB calls on me, I won’t be blindsided.”

“Yeah. I guess I should update Pete as well, in case they might go to him.”

“Probably not a bad idea.”

“Thanks, Lieu.”

“Yep.”

When he finally got to his desk, Isaac filled Pete in on the new developments in Sidney’s weird occurrences at work, and what he planned to do about it.

“Natalie Bains? For real?”

“You sound skeptical.”

“No, not skeptical. I totally believe she’s capable of it. I just can’t believe she’d go so far. I mean, what’s her endgame? What’s the point of harassing Sidney? Especially if her real beef is with you?”

Isaac lifted a hand, palm up, before it flopped down onto his desk.

“Probably because she knows it’s the quickest way to get to me. Mess with the woman I love? The woman she feels like I chose instead of her. I don’t know.”

“Well, if IAB comes to me, what should I say?”

“Depends on what they ask. Just tell them what you know.”

“I don’t know much. Just what you’ve said here.”

“Tell them that. I just wanted you to be in the loop.”

“Well, thanks for that, I guess.”

Isaac nodded. “Enough of Natalie Bains for now. We’ve got a killer to find.”

“Yeah, about that.”

“You find something?”

“Maybe. I was going back through Josephine Turner’s financials…”

“And?”

“And I saw that she recently spent nearly two hundred dollars at a local hardware store.”

“What’d she buy?”

“Rope. And lots of it. Duct tape. Zip ties.”

“A kidnapping kit.”

“You got it. Also hedge shears. The big ones.”

“Maybe that was before she and Danny settled on a weapon. When did she make this purchase?”

“Three days before our first victim was strung to that tree trunk.”

“Any chance the store still has video footage from that date?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“Okay, why don’t you go to the store and check on that footage.”

“What about you?”

“I’d feel a lot better if we had a murder weapon in hand. So, I’m going to do a little digging into it. If what Hiroshi says of the murder weapon most likely used on our three vics is true, then we’re looking for some kind of machete or kukri or something similar. I’m going to look at places that sell those kinds of things. I doubt there’s a whole lot of demand for something like that, so maybe a store will remember a recent purchase of one. Might get lucky.”

“Okay. Good hunting.”

“You, too.”

23

Two days later, Sidney sat on a park bench in Old Brooklyn across from the swing set. The text had said to come alone and bring the cash in an envelope. The text hadn’t given her much time either, insisting she be on that bench in just twenty minutes. So she’d collected the money from Ann and high tailed it out of Hope House.

She sat trying to catch her breath, eyes darting all around her. Twenty minutes was no time at all when you were still learning your way around a new city.

Kids screamed and laughed. The sound of it working wonders toward calming her nerves. Whoever this Ronan O’Dwyer was, he certainly wouldn’t pull anything frightening with children around.

Would he?

She drew in a deep breath and glanced down at the time on her cellphone.

She’d parked her car right at the twenty minute deadline and then had to power walk through the unfamiliar park to find the playground.

She was late.

Nearly two minutes to be exact. But surely, he wouldn’t count that against her. He wouldn’t leave and forfeit this transaction just because she’d been a little late in getting to the park bench.

“Oh, please still be here,” she whispered to herself, still looking around the park.

She glanced down at the time on her phone once more.

Five minutes.

It was now five minutes past the time she was supposed to have been there. How long should she wait for him?

She sat back and crossed her legs. If he didn’t show at least she’d have a few moments of quiet time in a lovely park.

That’s what she told herself. But the spike of anxiety threatened to keep her in fight or flight mode, ready to box or bolt with her next breath.

As she glanced off to the left, a man sat down to her right.

Startled, Sidney turned and looked at him.

Ronan O’Dwyer was short and stocky, and dressed very casually in a rumpled pair of dark khakis and a denim shirt. He had the hands of a factory worker. A well worn leather flat cap sat atop his close-cropped red hair at an angle, and two sharp brown eyes peered out from beneath it. He was younger than Sidney had imagined, and nothing like she’d pictured.

He set a lightweight jacket on the bench between them, and Sidney noticed a large manila envelope underneath it.

“Sorry for the delay, but ya don’t look like the pictures on the documents. I had to watch ya fer a bit to make sure ya were here fer me.”

“The documents aren’t for me.”

“So I gathered. Tell me, Sid. What does a social worker need with forged documents?”

Sidney watched a pair of little girls on the swings and thought about his question.

“Well social work involves helping people. Sometimes it involves helping people to protect themselves.”

“Ah. So ya help them run to safety, do ya?”

This question brought a new wrinkle of thought to Sidney’s mind, and she frowned.

“Is knowing what your documents are being used for a requirement for you?”

“Not at all. Ya simply intrigue me. It’s not often someone so good seeks my services.”

“Maybe I’m not as good as you think.”

Ronan chuckled, and the sound of it irked her.

“Don’t play games, lass. We both know this is your first foray into the dark side.”

Sidney grinned. She was beginning to enjoy being underestimated by men. Men who didn’t think she could stand up for herself or others.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. O’Dwyer, but you don’t grow