Led Astray (A Joe Burgess Mystery, Book 5) by Kate Flora

Author:Kate Flora
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2016-10-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

The painkillers he'd taken after his visit to the Radsteins didn't seem to be doing any good. His shoulder was giving off waves of heat and glowering at him like a malevolent presence. He was definitely not a happy camper. The cake and coffee had given him a useful infusion of sugar and caffeine but, like a cranky toddler, what he needed was a nap. There were no naps in his immediate future.

He figured if he couldn't rest, he'd go bother people instead. Stop at 109 and see if Wink and Dani, or the new guy, Charlie, had come up with anything. See when he could get his truck back and stop driving this uncomfortable ride. Call Perry and Kyle and see what they'd come up with. First, though, he decided to go by the hospital and see how Melia was doing. Check in with Gina and see if she'd noticed the strange car on her street or the odd couple at her soccer games. Or remembered something else.

He'd turned his phone off during his interview with Maddie Morris. Now he turned it back on. What he hoped for was a fingerprint match. A name. Something that would put them on a solid track. He was unsurprised to find that Captain Cote had left him three messages. He figured he might as well get it over with, so he hit call back, and, also unsurprised, reached Cote's voicemail. The captain's MO was not communication, but creating the ability to say, "Look, I called you three times."

"It's Burgess," he said. "Returning your call."

Then he put the recalcitrant heap in gear and headed to the hospital, listening to his other messages as he drove. Kyle wanted to meet up. Perry was going to take a meal break—read a break to see his girlfriend, Lily—and would have his phone off for the next hour. Dani Letorneau had a question and wanted to know if he was coming in, and as an inducement, she said Wink had processed the car. He could have it back, but he'd have to drive with no window or wait 'til it was replaced.

Great news. He'd take cold air over this wreck any day. The smell of fast food had so permeated the seat that when he shifted in a futile effort to make his shoulder more comfortable, it gave off stomach-turning waves of old French fry grease, bitter coffee, and cheap gentlemen's cologne.

The fog had thickened so much he needed headlights to drive and wipers to see. Sometimes fog was local, socking in Portland while farther up the coast it was sunny. He hoped that was the case today, otherwise Chris and the kids were going having a miserable outing.

He parked in one of the few spaces by the emergency entrance—one of the last remaining perks a police officer still enjoyed—and headed inside. Mercifully, given that his grouchy bear persona was ascendant, he didn't encounter any reporters, though there was still a strong blue presence.

The first thing

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