Dead Men Tell No Tales by Maggie Toussaint

Author:Maggie Toussaint
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9780996770651
Publisher: Muddle House Publishing
Published: 2017-11-02T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Seemed like I’d barely closed my eyes when a phone rang. Ike’s low-pitched voice rumbled nearby. He sounded serious so I roused and took note of the washed-out walls. Where was I?

I pushed up a little higher on my pillow and a jolt of pain blasted from my left arm, taking my breath away. Oh, yeah. I was in the hospital because Deena Mowrey tried to kill me. I was lucky to be alive, though I wished she’d missed altogether.

It was light outside, so I took it to be Sunday morning. I wanted to go home. To sleep in my own bed. To wear clothes that didn’t leave my backside exposed.

“That’s interesting,” Ike said, his voice strong and true. “He’s definitely going nowhere anytime soon.”

Something was happening with the case. To heck with the pain, I pushed to a sitting position, gritting my teeth as the world slowly spun to a standstill. The only way to get out of this bed was to get moving. Now that Ike had taken residence in my hospital room, I wanted privacy to go to the bathroom.

Whatever it took, I was walking to that bathroom. I traced the IV tube from my arm to the wheeled pole. Yeah, I could do this. Slide off the bed. Grab the pole on wheels. Trudge to the bathroom and do my business.

“I gotta go,” Ike said. “Keep me posted.”

He clicked off the call and padded around to face me. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home. But first I have to make a pit stop in the bathroom.”

“How can I help?”

Smart man. He knew the drill about getting out of here. “I need to do this by myself, but if disaster looms, I’d appreciate it if you kept me from doing a face plant. Once I show I can do this, I can make noises about going home today.”

“Gotcha.”

It wasn’t easy, and I wanted to quit four times, but I made it there and back with my dignity intact. Ike tucked me in with a chaste kiss. His eyes brimmed with excitement.

“Tell me,” I said.

“Had a break in the case. You were right about Sonny Mowrey being an alias. Deena is his ex-wife. His real name is Lowell Gray. Sonny and Deena Mowrey are really Lowell and Peggy Lou Gray.”

“Imagine that.”

Ike’s grin nearly split his face. My heart leapt to see him so happy. I reached for his hand and interlaced our fingers. Warm and comfort pulsed from his touch.

His eyes twinkled. “There’s more.”

Of course there was more. He was a master at drawing out the suspense. “How much more?”

“Enough.”

“I’m all ears.”

“You won’t believe this.”

I groaned. “So help me God, Ike, if you don’t tell me, I’ll clobber you.”

“That’s my girl.” He studied me with laughing eyes. “Seems we have a dead man in our jail.”

Sonny was dead? “You think that’s funny? What kind of man are you?”

Ike’s expression sobered. “Death is never funny. As usual, you’re thinking circles around me. Sonny’s very alive. But his prints belong to a dead man.

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