Iced Spy by Gardner A

Author:Gardner, A. [Gardner, A.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2016-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The fact that Sarah Henson had journals in her closet mapping out the day-to-day happenings of everyone in Bison Creek made my skin crawl. What made my skin crawl even more was that she hadn’t locked those ticking time bombs away in her safe. Something else had been more important to her.

“Here you go, Doc.” Sheriff Williams reached into the safe and handed the doctor a heavy object. He examined it closely. It was tall, shiny, and it had a rounded base that looked about six inches in diameter.

It was a trophy of some kind, and it could have been the murder weapon.

“Oh my,” Doc Henry muttered, squinting his eyes.

“The safe is full of them,” the sheriff replied, opening the heavy metal door even wider.

It appeared that Sarah’s most prized possessions were her dogs and the various trophies they had won. And by the looks of it, her dogs had won quite a few. I scanned each trophy, searching for some sort of clue, but each looked similar to the one next to it. All of them were tall, shiny, and displayed golden, engraved plaques with Sarah Henson’s name on them. Some even had the shape of her home state of Texas near her name. The safe couldn’t have been another dead end; I was missing a piece to the puzzle.

I had to be.

“Do you think one of these was the murder weapon?” Murray commented. The reason for his absence this morning was obvious when he ran his fingers through his reddish hair. He’d taken the time to stare at his reflection in the frosted window, more than once. He’d gotten a haircut.

“No,” Cydney immediately answered. “It’s not likely that the killer opened the safe, used one of these trophies to murder the victim, and then ran all the way back to the victim’s house in order to put it back again.”

“He’s right,” I added. “Chances are, the killer still has the murder weapon. The killer stole one of these trophies. Maybe we can get records of Sarah Henson’s competition history and figure out if a trophy is missing.” But the evidence had answered that question for me as I observed each trophy in its place, noticing that there was extra space in the center of the safe. A spot reserved for the biggest prize of them all.

“That’s a start.” Cydney took a deep breath as he took a seat at his desk. I again let Miso off his leash, and he carefully sniffed around the police station. Sheriff Williams shot me a strange look. He wrinkled his nose, scratching the sides of his mustache as if he had an itch he couldn’t satisfy.

“I see you two have worked out your differences,” he observed.

I shrugged.

The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but Cydney hadn’t irritated me since we’d gotten back from the mayor's house. He was growing on me, and it seemed that Bison Creek was growing on him. Or maybe he was working up the courage to ask for Taryn’s number?

“For now,” I teased.

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