Murder Under the Desert Moon by Maria Grazia Swan

Author:Maria Grazia Swan [Swan, Maria Grazia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing
Published: 2015-07-31T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I had no intention of leaving Larry's side, unless he went to use a public bathroom clearly marked Men.

The office where he was to meet someone from the Innocence Free Project wasn't in any high-rise glass and metal state-of-the-art building. Instead, we parked in front of a vintage bungalow-turned-law-office. Very charming, no doubt about it. The high-rise buildings could be seen about a mile or so away.

Here they did have an open box with a few stale donuts, probably to be coupled with old, bitter coffee. I'd brought along my bottle of drinking water and a week's worth of pent-up curiosity, ready to burst.

The woman who let us in was older than I was—how refreshing—and about my size, a reason for instant connection. While Larry marched directly into the conference room, I lingered, and the kind lady asked if any of us would like to place an order for sandwiches to be delivered shortly. I ordered a sandwich for Larry.

A door opened somewhere and Dennis Thompson came from around a corner. With him was a young woman with very pale skin and long, stringy blonde hair, not a good candidate for the outdoors unless she liked moonlight.

When Dennis noticed me he flashed me a smile. "Hello, Lella, glad you're joining us." Without much fanfare he pointed to the conference room.

Perfect. I felt acceptance; I was part of the team.

We entered what must have once been a dining room, perhaps a large Arizonan family would have gathered here for their evening supper, before air conditioning was invented. Well, hats off to those tough pioneers.

Larry stood when we entered. He nodded to Dennis, said a quick "Hello Greta," and then glanced curiously at me.

I quietly sat myself at the end of the table. Sunlight filtered through the tall, narrow windows and formed arabesque shadows on the glossy tabletop. I could see fingerprints left by sweaty hands. The place smelled of old potpourri.

"Okay then," Dennis laid open a thick file, "let's compare notes."

The young woman Larry had called Greta opened a small computer. She never once looked at me. And here I was wondering if she could be a good match for Kyle. Nah. She wasn't tall enough. Focus, Lella, focus.

"We all agree on Carillo's movements that day. His classes at Fullerton College ended earlier than usual—verified. He hitched a ride from another student who dropped him off on Harbor Boulevard, where he would catch the bus to Santa Ana—verified." Dennis continued. "Because he had a long wait, he walked around, and according to him, found himself behind a strip mall where he snooped inside the large garbage bins used by businesses. He claimed he got lucky a few times doing that, finding goods he was able to sell and make a few bucks. When he spotted the guitar case, he became very excited and retrieved it, handling it with care.

"Once he found the brand new guitar inside, he quickly walked away from the trash container in case someone came back looking for the guitar.

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