Murder in the Irish Channel (Chanse MacLeod Mysteries) by Herren Greg

Author:Herren, Greg [Herren, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781602826205
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2011-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“You’ve thought she was dead from the very beginning, haven’t you?” Abby said matter-of-factly as she slathered cream cheese on her toasted bagel. She took a bite, washing it down with coffee.

We were sitting in Mojo’s Coffee Shop the next morning. I’d already finished my first bagel and had moved on to my second by the time Abby showed up. She’d woken me from a deep, dreamless sleep at three in the morning, her voice bubbling over with excitement. The moment I somehow managed to gather myself enough to say “MacLeod,” she’d started babbling a hundred miles per hour, the loud hip-hop music blaring in the background tipped me off that she was at the Catbox Club. Between the music and the rapid-fire staccato of words shooting out of her mouth into the phone—and to be fair, I wasn’t even fifty percent awake and conscious—I couldn’t understand a thing she was saying. Finally, I managed to cut her off, and asked—pleaded, actually—to let it keep until the next morning. Resentfully, she’d agreed it could wait until morning. It was nine now, and given the fact she’d been wide awake six hours earlier, I found her alertness more than a little annoying.

She was also taking her time telling me what she’d learned—punishing me for “harshing her buzz” at three in the morning.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup and wasn’t wearing a wig. She could have passed for a teenager in her baggy madras shorts and an enormous, shapeless Saints jersey that hid the size of her breasts. Her brown hair was pulled back into a perky ponytail mounted high on the back right side of her head.

“Well, yeah, I did.” I popped the last bite of my second bagel into my mouth and watched her face. “That doesn’t mean she is, though. But no activity on her credit cards? No bank withdrawals? Doesn’t look good that she’s hiding out somewhere. And why would she be hiding out in the first place?”

“Maybe she killed her son.” Abby frowned at her bagel before smearing more cream cheese on it. She took a bite and melted cream cheese ran down her fingers. She licked it off expertly. “And she’s on the run.”

“Without her car and without any money.” I shook my head. “And leaving behind a fifty-thousand-dollar check in her desk drawer. People don’t go on the run and leave that kind of money behind—especially when all she had to do was cash it. Then she’d have a shitload of cash—she could hide for a long time with that kind of nest egg. So, no, it’s not likely.”

Abby nodded. “Most people wouldn’t think about not using their cards, either.” She sighed. “I mean, if she killed Robby, she probably wouldn’t be thinking that clearly anyway—clearly enough to cover her tracks so thoroughly.”

“I don’t know—she doesn’t strike me as the kind of mother who could kill her child, even if he was kind of an asshole—and he seems to have been a major asshole.” I got up and walked back to the counter to get a refill.

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