Don't Even Breathe (Maggie Novak Thriller) by Keith Houghton

Author:Keith Houghton [Houghton, Keith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

PRESSURE COOKER

Where’s the fire?” Loomis said as he rushed down the hallway after Maggie.

“Dana’s car could hold vital clues,” she said as he caught up.

“Which will still be there in the morning.”

“Except we’re not working tomorrow. Remember?” She reached the front door, pausing to face him. “We need to check it for evidence. Don’t give things time to spoil.”

She went to open the door. Loomis put a hand out, preventing her. “It’s immaterial either way,” he said. “Smits has all he needs.”

“Only if Cullen is guilty.”

“Wait. Now you’re thinking he’s not?”

“I think it’s possible somebody is trying to frame him. And I don’t think any of this is as cut-and-dried as it seems. I know murderers often behave irrationally, and they do some pretty strange things, but I’ve never come across one who did such a bad job of hiding the murder weapon, and then allowing us to find it. It was like Cullen was dished up to us on a plate.”

“And I totally agree. But how many times have we scratched our heads over a killer’s flimsy motive? People kill people for the weakest excuses. Someone looks at somebody the wrong way. Somebody takes exception to another person’s status. You name it. Sometimes people are just wired wrong upstairs and they do crazy stuff. You can’t decode crazy.”

“And I can’t ignore my gut instinct.” She ducked under his arm and squeezed through the gap in the doorway.

Loomis followed her outside, darting around in front of her and blocking her path.

“Novak, please,” he said. “Hold up. We’re having dinner here. We’re being chatty and sociable and having a nice time. It’s fun. We don’t get to do this kind of thing often enough. What you’re doing here, right now, this can wait.”

“Abby and Steve agreed we should go.”

“Only because they were being polite and they know what you’re like.”

Maggie balked. “What I’m like?” She made a face, waiting for him to expand. She saw the struggle in his eyes, knowing that he wouldn’t back up his claim.

He blinked at her through his alcoholic haze, clearly unable to find any words that wouldn’t inflame. “Just come back inside,” he said at last.

“No.”

“I made ice cream.”

She frowned. “You made ice cream?”

“Hey, don’t sound so skeptical. I got skills.”

“What flavor?”

“Double chocolate pecan. Admittedly, a calorific calamity. But something to behold. Come on, Novak. You know you’re tempted.”

“I know I need to see Dana’s car, and it can’t wait till Tuesday. You coming with?”

“Yes. But . . . I’m just a teensy bit on the tipsy side of sober right now.”

Maggie smirked. “Get over yourself, Loomis. You’ve had two glasses of wine. You must be the only cop from New York who can’t hold his liquor.”

“What can I say? I’m sensitive.”

She waggled her fingers. “Come on. Give me your keys.”

“You’ve been drinking, too.”

“Cast-iron constitution from my dad’s side. I’m fine. Come on. Hand them over.”

He dug the keys out of his pocket. “Okay,” he said. “You drive the minivan. But on one condition. No speeding.

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