Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 03 - Murder Doubles Back by Evelyn David

Author:Evelyn David [David, Evelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery: Cozy - P.I. - Washington DC
ISBN: 0615804845
Publisher: Trace Evidence Press
Published: 2013-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Mac had a sick feeling in his stomach when he saw the whirring lights of the black-and-whites in front of the group home. There were four police cars, parked at angles to the curb. Evidence that there had been a rush to get inside.

Mac had his seat belt unbuckled before Rachel had pulled to a stop. “Stay here.”

Rachel started to protest.

Mac shook his head. “I’ll be lucky if they let me in. No way I can explain you or a dog sidekick. Keep Whiskey with you.”

The big dog had been snoozing in the back seat of Rachel‘s Jeep, but perked up when she heard her name. She whined at being benched, but settled back down when Rachel offered a dog biscuit.

Mac got out of the car, every muscle in his body rebelling at moving with any kind of speed.

A uniformed cop, blocking the doorway, held up his hand. “Sorry sir, no one’s allowed in.”

Mac dug out his PI license. “I’m a retired DC cop. You can check with my old boss, Lieutenant James Greeley, homicide.

The cop lowered his hand.

Mac kept talking. “I’ve got my own investigations agency and I’m working on a case involving one of the residents. Can you at least tell Ms. Jackson that I’m here? I think I might be able to help.”

Mac waited while the cop went inside. After a few minutes, he was ushered into the house and headed back to the big kitchen, passing the living room. He recognized some of the residents, huddled around the Christmas tree.

Melinda Jackson and what he assumed were two detectives sat at the long kitchen table. Three uniformed cops, talking on cell phones, stood in different corners of the room.

Ms. Jackson called out before Mac had even entered the room. “Randy’s missing.”

A wave of nausea hit him and he steadied himself against one of the counters before joining the group at the table.

A middle-aged, African-American detective stood up. “Hank Jefferson from the Arlington County PD.” He tilted his head in the direction of the woman next to him. “My partner, Laura Mancino. I just checked with Greeley and he says you’re legit, but to watch out for the dog. What the hell does that mean?”

Mac waved him off. “Nothing, Greeley has a thing about dog hair on his five hundred buck suits. Probably wants to save yours.”

Jefferson, dressed in a plaid sports coat dating from the ’80s, laughed. “What happened to you? You look like you lost a boxing match.”

“Long story.” Mac sat down across from Melinda Jackson. “What’s going on here?”

Melinda Jackson nervously shredded a paper napkin. “I’m not sure, exactly. I had to run to the clinic in Annandale to pick up a prescription for one of the residents, but was sure I’d be back long before the mini-bus brought the men home from their field trip. They went to a professional basketball game in DC with some friends from the workshop. But an accident on Route 50 held me up and they were already waiting outside the door, except for Randy.

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