Body Broker_A Jack Dixon Novel by Daniel M. Ford

Author:Daniel M. Ford [Ford, Daniel M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781939650993
Goodreads: 44025389
Publisher: Santa Fe Writer's Project
Published: 2019-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

The rest of the night was generally awful. I gave dirty looks to any of the kids who seemed to even think about getting rowdy. I was agitated. I wanted to be working my case. Maybe kicking down Thalheim’s door and redecorating his office by tossing him vigorously around it.

I was deep in a particularly violent visualization when Bob finally tapped me for his inside shift. Being back out in the night air calmed me down a little, and by the end of the night I had a rational plan of action.

I tried to give Bob a hundred bucks out of my envelope at the end of the night but he wouldn’t have it. We didn’t talk much on the way back to the marina. Bob could read that I was angry and also that I didn’t much want to talk about the case, just work it. So we left it alone, listening to the crackle of his radio and the minor calls that came in around the county on a Friday night.

I didn’t even have a cocktail that night. I both barely slept and slept well; I popped out of bed at seven a.m. without needing an alarm, got dressed, and started walking.

I was standing outside the firm’s office when somebody came to open it up at 8:45.

“Matthew,” I said, as my lunch partner of the other day eyed me strangely, keys in one hand, steaming travel mug in the other.

“You’re not usually here early. Or on a Saturday. Or at all.”

“We must be ever-vigilant and willing to do without the mortal pleasures of sleep and breakfast in the pursuit of our calling.”

“What?”

“I got up extra early and walked here. Now open the damn door.”

I barely waited for Matt to clear the doorway before I’d grabbed a set of keys and taken the same company car I’d driven earlier in the week. He yelled after me, something about paperwork and permission, but I didn’t have time for that.

I drove straight to Farrington Academy, reasoning that a school with that big a boarder population had Saturday office hours, and likely enough nurses and guidance counselors on duty all weekend as well. Maybe I’d get lucky and Dr. Thalheim would be right there.

Without a suit I had fallen back on my rather small stock of collared shirts and unstained jeans. But it was a Saturday. Besides, the cut of this particular polo shirt emphasized my shoulders and my arms. Amy Riordan might be on the desk.

I knew the instant I buzzed that she was, because her voice sounded surprised. Perhaps even delighted.

“Mr Dixon!” The door buzzed and I swung it open, hopping eagerly up the steps to her office. I smiled, but it was a cold smile, for all that she looked lovely in a red half-sleeve sweater shirt, jeans, and matching red flats.

“Amy,” I said, laying one hand on the edge of her desk. “I don’t suppose Dr. Thalheim is in today.”

She held up one long finger and flicked a few keys.

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