Nightmare Sally (The Reed Ferguson Mystery Series Book 15) by Renee Pawlish

Author:Renee Pawlish [Pawlish, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Creative Cat Press
Published: 2017-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

Francine Johnson lived in a small house on Jackson Street that had a tiny brown yard that was crying for attention. I pushed through an old picket-fence gate that badly needed paint and up the sidewalk to a front entrance with a rickety screen door. I rang the bell and waited. A moment later, it was opened by a buxom woman in a threadbare yellow bathrobe and dirty white slippers, with curlers in her gray hair. She held the collar of a German Shepherd as she peered at me though the screen door. The sound of a game show and the smell of coffee drifted out to me.

“Yes?” Her voice was squeaky and small, like a mouse.

“Are you Francine Johnson?” I asked.

“I am.” She pulled her robe tight around her chest.

“I’d like to talk to you about your grandson, Davon.” Before I had a chance to show her my ID, or say anything more, she interrupted me.

“What’s that boy gotten himself into?”

“I’m not sure he’s gotten into anything,” I began.

“Well, if you expect me to bail him out of jail again, I’m not going to do it. He’s not getting any cash from me.” She emphasized this with a sweeping motion of a wrinkly hand. “And you tell him that he made his choice leaving here, so he can’t come back. You got that?”

“He doesn’t live here now?”

Her eyes narrowed and her lips went in and out as she stared at me. “That’s what I just said.”

“Was he here on Sunday night?”

“That boy hasn’t been around for weeks. I don’t know what he’s up to these days, and I don’t want to know.”

“Hmm,” I said. Since she was talking, I needed to get as much information from her as I could. “I must have misunderstood him.”

“You must have,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Where does he live now?”

She let go of the dog’s collar and he sat down, but he looked up and emitted a low growl. “How should I know? That boy doesn’t tell me anything.” She narrowed her eyes. “But he did try to call me a little bit ago.”

“What did he want?”

She waved a hand around. “I don’t want to get involved in whatever tomfoolery he’s gotten himself into, and I didn’t answer. He didn’t leave a message, either.”

Maybe calling to tell her to cover for his alibi, I thought.

“Where did you see him? Jail?” She didn’t seem concerned, but curious.

“He’s working at CJ’s Auto Repair,” I said.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.” Somehow she’d turned the tables and was interrogating me. “What did Davon do before that job?” I asked, taking control of the conversation again.

Her lips were working again as she mused, almost unaware of my presence. “I’m surprised he has a job at all. That boy is trouble, through and through. I hate to say it about my own flesh and blood, but it’s the truth. Though, Lord, I tried with him. But he was so angry, his momma had a drinking problem and couldn’t raise him.” She shook her head sadly.

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