Murder at Corgi Country Club by Cindy Bell

Author:Cindy Bell [Bell, Cindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Malcolm’s confession knocked the wind from Nikki’s body. She stared at him through the window, her eyes wide, and her teeth clenched. If Daniel was his father, and he had no idea why Quinn was there, that meant he had no idea that his father had been killed. In his remote cabin, she guessed that he didn’t keep up with the latest news.

“You’re sure he’s your father?” Quinn’s voice remained steady.

“Yes, we had a paternity test done.” Malcolm sighed. “Look, when I was a kid, I had no idea who my father was. My mother always told me that he was a nobody, and that I needed to forget about him. So, I did. But as I got older, I got more and more curious. Finally, she told me his name. When she did, I started looking into him.” He rolled his eyes. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered how wealthy he was. Then of course, you’ll probably think I wanted some of his money. But I didn’t. I’m happy here. I have everything I need. I have everything I want.” He shook his head. “I can’t expect you to understand. I just wanted to know who I looked like, why I have a tendency to avoid relationships. I just wanted to see if he was anything like me.”

“And did you?” Quinn pulled out his notepad and began to jot down a few notes. “Were you able to make contact with him?”

“Yes, I was. Of course, he wanted the DNA test first, so we did that. Then he got more friendly.” Malcolm shrugged and glanced down at the desk. “I thought he was happy to hear from me. He seemed to want to meet up. Then all of a sudden, he stopped taking my calls. I haven’t been able to reach him. I figured he’d just changed his mind.” He squinted at Quinn. “Are you ever going to tell me what this is all about? I mean, am I in some kind of trouble?”

“That depends. Where were you yesterday between ten and twelve?” Quinn’s shoulders straightened.

Nikki studied Malcolm’s reaction to the question.

“Where was I?” Malcolm’s eyes widened. “I was here. I’m always here.”

“Any witnesses to prove that?” Quinn’s pen hovered over his notepad.

“Squirrels. Maybe a few deer.” Malcolm chuckled, then his laughter faded. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.” Quinn set the notepad down. “Did you see or speak to anyone during those times?”

“Uh, ten to twelve. Well, I usually do a walk of the campsites around ten. But we didn’t have too many campers yesterday. I don’t know, maybe?” Malcolm ran his hand back through his hair.

“Maybe? You can’t tell me if you spoke to anyone yesterday?” Quinn narrowed his eyes.

“I think I did. I mean, I know I did, I’m just not sure what time it was. Around here, we don’t exactly keep track of time.” Malcolm stepped around the side of the desk. “Now you need to tell me what this is about. Why does it matter where I was?”

“I’m a homicide detective, investigating the murder of Daniel Barclay.

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