Murder Walk by Melissa Bowersock

Author:Melissa Bowersock [Bowersock, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781986793544
Publisher: New Moon Publishing
Published: 2018-04-11T04:00:00+00:00

~~~

NINE

By the time Sam got home, she was engrossed in her search.

He was covered in sawdust.

“Making progress on the shelves?” she guessed with a laugh.

“What tipped you off?” He gave her a kiss and went immediately to the laundry area to retrieve a whisk broom. “Forgot to take this with me. I’ll be right back.”

He stepped outside to broom himself off, then returned, considerably cleaner.

“How many did you put up?” she asked.

“I put two across the back wall of the front room. I think later I’ll extend them to the side wall, but that can wait. I need to make some stuff to put on them now.”

“When are you going to start that?”

“I’m going to get some clay tomorrow, and pick up a wedging table. I’d love to go out to the res and dig my own clay, but that’ll have to wait. I still need to set up a system for washing that doesn’t involve sending clay down the drain, then I can start.” He opened the fridge and stared at the contents. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

“Did you not eat lunch?” she asked. She pushed her laptop aside.

“Forgot.”

“And you say I’m like a dog with a bone,” she grumbled.

He grinned at her. “It’s rubbing off on me.”

“How about grilled cheese sandwiches?”

“Sold,” he said.

Over the simple dinner, Lacey returned to his project. “Did Theodora help you?”

“No. She’s not good at handing me nails.”

Lacey blinked at him, at the perfectly straight face and the perfectly modulated voice. Then she laughed.

“Oh, you,” she scoffed. “She can give you encouragement.”

“And she did that,” he said, nodding. “She likes what I’m doing.”

“I looked her up.”

“Oh?” He raised his eyes to her. “And…?”

“She was one wild woman. Born in 1890, died in 1951, and she was quite the eclectic artist. Used all sorts of media, combined them in new ways. She was reported to have had affairs with Picasso, Dali and Jackson Pollock.”

Sam chewed slowly, assimilating that group of names. “That’s quite a menagerie.”

“Isn’t it? Apparently she would never confirm or deny; guess she didn’t kiss and tell. I’d dearly love to sit and chat with her. Can you pass me some of your talent?”

Sam chuckled. “I would if I could, but I don’t think it works that way. Too bad you can’t take Daniel’s share, since he’s not crazy about it.”

Lacey sipped her iced tea. She’d been waiting for an opening. “That reminds me, I talked with Cathy Perez today.”

“Oh?” One of Sam’s black eyebrows inched upward.

“Yeah. I know it’s not our case, but I figured a little research couldn’t hurt. I started thinking about the different scenarios that could be behind the murder, you know: drugs, gangs, stuff like that.” She toyed with her sandwich. “I really think it’s about sex.”

Sam stared at her, no expression in his dark eyes. “Because…?”

“Remember what Daniel said about Bret Russell calling him names, because he and Jason were so ‘close’?” She used air quotes around “close.” “I asked Cathy if Jason was gay. She said yes.

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