No Stranger to Murder by Gerrie Ferris Finger

Author:Gerrie Ferris Finger
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, atlanta, georgia, appalachian trail, hikers
Publisher: Bold Venture Press

18

Lake dropped off Tiny Timz’s gun to be run through the lab for a bullet match to anything suspect, and then, it being seven-fifteen, we ran our 2-K around the Chastain golf course. Up Powers Ferry Road to Dudley Road to Lake Forest Road, cutting off the point where the roads come together to get back on Powers Ferry Road. Huffing from our efforts, we sat with towels around our necks in Lake’s squad car in the parking lot of the Chastain Horse Park reading our emails and texts. Seven-thirty came and no sign of Alexis’s Cadillac. I asked about Jackson Long’s case but there was nothing going on but fingerprinting and DNA testing. The autopsy was finished but not written up. Forensics! So damn slow.

“Alexis is running late.” Lake said, with a tone I didn’t like. Not his pitch, but what it implied.

“Hmmm,” I mumbled. Ten minutes later, my phone blurted a Mozart sonata. I said, “Alexis, I bet. She forgot about a breakfast meeting this morning.”

But it was my office number on the display. I answered, “Webdog. What good words will my early bird say to start my day?”

“Paisley MacDunnich left a message with our answering service. The call came in at eleven o’clock last night. She’s not happy. She wants you to call her a-s-a-p, and she’s not kidding.”

“Asap, huh?”

“That exactly what she said. ‘Moriah Dru call me a-s-a-p, and I’m not kidding.’”

“Doesn’t like her granddad’s machinations. Who else left messages?”

“The usual. Clients-to-be wanting your expert services.”

“No Alexis Landisman?”

“Nope. Should she?”

“Nope.”

It was going on eight o’clock. Lake was giving me that look. He needed to be at his office, which was half an hour from here, or more, depending on the traffic. “Let’s go,” I said. “Guess she showed me.”

*****

I called Alistair about his granddaughter’s preemptive summons. He had no idea what it was about. He had not talked to his granddaughter about my commission. He laughed and told me to be prepared. You never knew which Paisley was going to take me to task. “She’s a pistol, but she’s a smart pistol,” he said.

Just what I need, a smart pistol.

At the office, I looked over my notes regarding the Adams Barr trial. At noon I had lunch with Lake. He caught me up on the Adams-Barr case. No deal-striking, DDA Lope told him. Then he confessed he told Commander Haskell about Tiny Timz and the cat attack at my house. “Did you tell Haskell Mr. Brown started it?”

“Too incredible for belief!” he said.

Webdog had made an appointment for me to talk to Jordan Smith’s father, Owen Smith. At five o’clock. Back at the office I called Alistair to find out where I could find Paisley. She didn’t answer the number he gave me or the one Web got from her voicemail call.

*****

Alistair had given instructions to the gate personnel to let me through whenever I came to the compound. And they did. I had been instructed by Alistair that Paisley had her own small cottage behind the tennis courts near the back of the compound.

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