Murder on Silver Lake by Hugo James King

Author:Hugo James King [King, Hugo James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-23T05:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

Approaching my desk, I noticed Howard and Yvonne; they sat with their backs in my direction. But at that moment, they were both faced looking at me, their eyes filling with hope—and what I assumed were questions.

I took a seat and sighed.

“How’s everything?” Yvonne said.

Howard appeared at my side. “Just got in? I think the kettle’s boiled.”

Yvonne stood by Howard, both of them at my side. “Want to come make coffee?”

I knew what this was, it was code; a rouse to get me away from my desk and away from Diane. They wanted to know what happened, they wanted to know more information than was currently inside the newspaper. I didn’t know what to tell them, I didn’t even see it. If they wanted to know anything, they should be asking the dog.

As we made our way to the small office kitchen, Jeannie followed in after us.

We stood in the box room as Yvonne prepared cups and the kettle boiled.

“So?” Jeannie said. “You found a dead body. I’m surprised you even came in.”

“They say it’s usually the joggers that find bodies,” Howard added, folding his arms and tutting.

I shrugged. “It was,” I said. “My neighbour’s daughter found it.”

“Out for a jog?” Yvonne asked.

“Yeah.”

Howard scoffed. “Adding insult to the injury, so cliché.”

“If I’d been faster,” I said, growing breathless. “If I’d been faster, I would’ve seen it.”

“You didn’t see it?” Jeannie asked.

“I thought you did,” Yvonne said.

I backed myself against a wall. “I saw some of it, but I wasn’t going to get close enough to see. Are you lot mad?”

Jeannie shuddered. “I don’t blame you,” she said. “But I thought you saw it all.”

“You know, Earl was telling me they’re calling it a murder.”

Because it was. “Do you think it was?”

They didn’t respond. It was where people seemed to draw the line, at calling out something as murder, especially so close to home. It hit hard, and it didn’t settle well. I didn’t want to think of it as a murder either, but it was what it was, and it certainly wasn’t someone drowning.

“His poor wife,” Yvonne said, turning to the cups. “Sugar?”

“I’ll have one,” Jeannie added.

“One sugar.” I held a finger out.

Yvonne made the coffees in the quiet, I could feel their brains working overtime to create questions. I guess, I was also somewhat related to the inspector on the case, but they didn’t know we weren’t on speaking terms.

I wasn’t sure what information they were looking for. “Paul said it was murder,” I said, offering them something. “Couldn’t have been suicide. Ruled out almost immediately.”

They sighed and shook their heads.

“Poor man.”

That, he was, incredibly poor. Not the poor where you have nothing, but the poor where you owe everything out.

“Oh,” Suzanne griped, entering the kitchen. “This is where everyone is.” Her snarled upper lip, painted in a light brown lipstick, that or she’d already eaten the chocolate. “What’s the hot button topic this morning?”

Jeannie and Howard were the first to leave, both cradling their coffee cups in hand.

“The murder,” Yvonne said.

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