Chasing Charlie by John Chabot

Author:John Chabot
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, art theft, mystery, crime
Publisher: C & M Online Media, Inc.
Published: 2012-01-10T00:00:00+00:00

SUNDAY

Josie sat on the edge of the sofa, a piece of toast with lemon marmalade in one hand, the TV remote in the other, coffee close at hand on a side table. She had surfed hurriedly past an old John Wayne movie (on Sunday morning?), a kid’s cartoon show, the national news, the weather channel, more cartoons, and had finally found a program of local news. A young blond (obviously bleached) was using her serious face to report on a Corp of Engineers warning of erosion along the coast and how it might affect local property values.

Damn. She had stayed up till all hours, waiting for Charlie to show up, at first hoping to hear a key in the door, then hoping she wouldn’t, especially if he was the one who’d done the shooting. She was sure it had been a shot she’d heard. Either way, it was hell not knowing, and she had been too late finding the local news. She knew that if they were onto Corp of Engineers reports, the next thing up would be the weather forecast, and sports, probably basketball. Anything interesting, such as someone being murdered while sitting in a wrecked car, would have been covered earlier.

She finished off the toast, wondering how she could find out what had really happened, then deciding to get more toast and marmalade. And more coffee.

The doorbell rang. She stopped, frowning. She waited a moment, but it didn’t repeat. Just the one ring. If it were Don, he’d have rung several times, maybe banging on the door for emphasis. Charlie wouldn’t have to ring; he had a key. Maybe Dylan Crooke? She looked down at the apricot Japanese print robe she wore, with matching slippers. They were fine. But she hadn’t even brushed her hair yet and as for makeup…. She thought, “Maybe it’s Charlie, and something happened and he lost his key,” and the doubts came back. Was he the shooter or the shootee, or maybe a witness running scared? It occurred to her that the only way to get her questions answered was to answer the door.

***

Harry was about to ring again, when the door opened a crack. He saw part of a pretty face, mostly large dark eyes, looking at him with expectation, and watched the look turn to puzzlement.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Trent?” He held up his ID. “I’m Detective Chervenik, with the Connor Beach Police. I have a few questions.”

No response.

“May I come in?”

“What’s this about?”

“It’s a little hard to explain out here.”

The door closed, a chain rattled, and the door opened all the way. She didn’t ask him in, but stood back, watching as he went past her. She led the way into the living room. The TV showed a different woman, another young blond (not quite so obviously bleached), mentioning the difficulty of predicting spring weather, which meant they hadn’t been able to decide whether it would rain or not. Josie picked up the remote and switched her off. She nodded toward the sofa and took a chair opposite, saying nothing, letting her expression ask the question.

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