Black Widow by Breton Laurie

Author:Breton, Laurie [Breton, Laurie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance
ISBN: 9781419913990
Publisher: Jasmine Jade
Published: 2007-11-08T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

He swung by Kathryn’s house on the way to work the next morning. Her car was in the driveway, but when he knocked on the door, there was no response. Nick walked around to the back door and peered through the glass. The dog’s leash wasn’t hanging on the hook beside the refrigerator where he’d seen her leave it. That meant she was probably out jogging. He’d advised her to vary her daily schedule. It made him antsy, the knowledge that somebody out there was watching her every move. And his. At least she was taking the dog everywhere she went. It was little comfort, but it was all he had for now.

When he walked into the station, Rowena held up a small silver key on a brass ring. “Morning, Chief,” she said. “I stopped by Galway’s Hardware after church and had this made up for you.”

“Great,” he said. “Thanks.” He pocketed the key, made a beeline for the coffeepot, and poured himself a cup of strong, black coffee. “Listen,” he said, tearing open a sugar packet and stirring it in, “do you know if there’s any kind of arrest record on Wanita Crumley?”

She was uncharacteristically silent, and he swung around to look at her. Raised his eyebrows at her pious expression. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead,” she said. “But that woman had problems. She wasn’t precisely known for her charitable works.”

“Find the file,” he said, setting down his spoon, “and bring it in my office.”

Richard Melcher was sitting at his desk, feet propped up on the bottom drawer, reading the autopsy report and eating a jelly doughnut. “Excuse me for interrupting,” Nick said.

“DiSalvo!” Melcher said, almost trembling in his enthusiasm, like an eager pup ready to show off his newest trick. “I’ve been out doing a little investigating on my own, and I’ve come up with some information you might find interesting.”

“You have powdered sugar all over you,” Nick said amiably.

“What? Oh, shit!” Melcher dropped his feet to the floor and hastened to brush the white powder off his expensive suit. The harder he brushed, the deeper the sugar went into the fabric.

“Up,” Nick said. “Take your damn doughnut and get out of here, before everything on my desk is covered with jelly.”

Melcher paused in his rubbing. “You really ought to hear this, DiSalvo—”

“Later. Right now, I have a phone call to make.”

Melcher reluctantly gave up his seat. “Where the hell am I supposed to sit? How can I run an investigation without the proper equipment? You don’t even have a spare desk here in this godforsaken place!”

“Call your friends in Raleigh. I’m sure they’d be more than happy to requisition one for you. Maybe you can get one of those little gold-trimmed name plates to go with it.” Nick picked up the phone, dialed Raelynn Wilbur’s office, and leaned back in his chair. He scowled fiercely at Melcher. “And I’m running the investigation,” he said.

Cindy Hawkins, Raelynn’s bubbly and capable secretary, informed him that Ms.

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