No Unturned Stone by David James Warren

Author:David James Warren [Warren, David James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-954023-04-8
Publisher: TriStone Media

12

Her father was going to murder her.

That might be going a little far. He was going to murder Rembrandt Stone. He’d just disown her.

What had she been thinking, inviting Rem to her family’s Fourth of July party?

“Are you done with this sandwich?”

The voice jerked her back her microscope, where Eve was examining the cufflink she’d found on the street at Gretta’s murder scene.

Silas picked up her bag, the other half of her ham sandwich inside. “Is this from that new deli down the street?”

“Yes,” she said, then walked over and took the bag. “And no, I’m not finished.”

“Looks good. What is it—ham?”

“Minced Ham Salad, my new favorite.” Funny that Rembrandt knew that—it was such an odd filling for a sandwich. But he’d dropped it on her counter like he brought her lunch every day, the gesture familiar and easy.

Strange, but she felt exactly that way with Inspector Stone. As if she’d known him all her life, the conversation between them fitting like an old shoe. Except, she barely knew the man, save for the hours and hours she’d invested in his memoir.

So maybe that was it—she knew him from his book. And perhaps their countless imagined conversations.

And one very delicious kiss.

Stop it.

She opened the bag now, and fished out the other half of the sandwich, aware of the beast inside her awakening with a frightening ferocity. What had Rembrandt said about being obsessed? You have to learn to take breaks, let your mind think. You get so focused on something it can keep you pinned to it, and then it will derail your entire life.

Yes, well, she’d spent most of her life focused and it had netted her a dream job with the Minneapolis Police Department, so maybe that wasn’t a terrible crime.

More, her focused work had unearthed more than a few clues about Gretta’s recent history. She unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite.

“Fine. I’ll have to settle for a stale donut,” said Silas. He had poured himself the last dregs of coffee and was now reading over the updated evidence board. “You tracked down the credit card in her possession.”

“It wasn’t hard.” She came over to the board where she’d tacked a list of the charges. “It was registered to Robert Swenson, who owns property off of 41st Avenue South, just a few blocks away from Lulu’s Diner. And, there’s quite a few pizza delivery charges from Station Pizzeria, which is about four blocks to the east.”

She’d printed out a map of the area and noted the locations with a marker. “My guess is she was renting out the place, or maybe just using it, but that’s where she was living for the past three months.”

“Who is Robert Swenson?”

“I ran his name, and of course we got about 726 hits in the Minneapolis area. But, when I ran his address, I found a Robert Swenson who coaches the Edina Hornets, a female fast-pitch community softball team.”

“Do you think—”

“Yep. I did some digging and found an old picture of Gretta Holmes in uniform for St.

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