A Killing Cure by Ellen Hart

Author:Ellen Hart [Ellen Hart]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 2940012027603
Google: teECUxuIpcAC
Amazon: B004GNFEZS
Goodreads: 1950736
Publisher: Ellen Hart
Published: 2010-12-17T03:00:00+00:00

26

“Was that Peter’s jeep in front of your house?” asked Cordelia, sweeping into the front hall and shaking the rain out of her umbrella.

“He must already be here.” Jane stepped to the stairs and called up. “Anybody home?”

“Be right down,” came a deep voice. The wood floors creaked under the weight of a tall, bearded man as he came bounding down the stairs. He gave them both a hug before stuffing a screwdriver into the back pocket of his cords.

“Where’s your ex-policeman friend?” asked Jane, glancing around.

“In the basement. So far, everything checks out tight as a drum. No pry marks on the windows. No evidence anywhere of breaking and entering.”

“You know,” said Cordelia, standing back to look at them, “I forget sometimes how much you two look alike.”

“Especially when I put on my fake beard,” said Jane, slipping an arm around her brother’s shoulder. She gave his curly brown hair a playful yank. “But I’m older. And wiser.”

“And crazier,” said Peter, nodding at the music box still sitting on the mantle in the living room. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?” Together, they walked away, leaving Cordelia standing alone in the hall.

Catching the unmistakable scent of fresh brewed coffee, she began to edge her way into the kitchen. After a quick perusal of the refrigerator, she selected a loaf of English muffin bread and popped two slices into the toaster. Then, getting down a mug, she sidled over to the coffeemaker.

“Who are you?” asked a husky voice from the doorway to the basement stairs.

Cordelia turned, holding the coffeepot in midair. “I … I might ask you the same question.” She blinked several times as she beheld a robust, highly attractive bleached-blond, wearing a pair of white bib overalls, a red bandana tied around her hair.

“Mugs Lonetto.” She held out a meaty hand.

Cordelia shook it limply. “Cordelia Thorn. I thought you were supposed to be … a man.”

Mugs looked down at her rather prominent chest. “Not likely.” She gave Cordelia a devastating smile.

Cordelia nearly dropped the coffeepot.

“Ah, there you are,” said Peter, walking briskly into the room. “I see you two have already met. Mugs, this is my sister, Jane.”

“Glad to meet you,” said Mugs, once again extending her hand.

“So,” continued Peter, “what did you find downstairs?”

Mugs shoved her hands into her pockets. “No problems. The security in this house is pretty good. Not that you couldn’t use a burglar alarm system. But I’d say your visitor last night had to have a key. There’s no other way he could have broken in without us seeing some signs.”

“A key,” repeated Jane. “How could someone get a key to this house?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised how easy it is. I don’t suppose you’ve lost yours recently?”

“Well … I mean, I left them in the ignition of my car a few days ago. But I don’t think anyone touched them. Otherwise, why didn’t they steal the car?”

Peter brushed a hand over his mouth to hide a smile.

“I saw that,” said Jane.

“Nothing,” said Peter, grinning.

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