Q Is For Quarry: A Kinsey Millhone Novel by Sue Grafton

Author:Sue Grafton [Grafton, Sue]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2003-09-30T00:00:00+00:00

14

I hadn’t sat surveillance for ages and I’d forgotten how long an hour could feel. At least the car wasn’t going to move. I took off my watch and slipped it in my pocket so I wouldn’t be tempted to keep peeking at the time. I settled in the shade, leaning against the garage while I added a few notes to my index cards and then slipped the paperback from my shoulder bag and found my place.

Half a chapter later, I heard a car door slam, and when I peered around the corner, I saw Cornell getting out of a white truck. He was crossing the parking pad, heading for his parents’ back door, possibly to have lunch. I was starving and had to take my nourishment in the form of an ancient Junior Mint I’d tossed in the bottom of my shoulder bag. I figured the fuzz on it would supply my quota of fiber.

The day had warmed up considerably and the air smelled of wildflowers and weeds. An occasional bumblebee lumbered by, a black-and-yellow gumball in flight. A swarm of gnats danced in the light and a horsefly zipped around, looking for a place to land. This was entirely too much wildlife for my purposes.I’m an indoor kind of person, and I prefer my contact with Nature reduced to the front of a picture postcard.

I heard someone trampling through the grass. I got to my feet, dusted off my jeans, and tucked the book back in my bag. I was expecting to see Dolan. Instead, Cornell appeared, smoking a cigarette he’d cupped in the palm of his hand. He didn’t seem all that happy to see me. His gaze shifted to the open garage door, where the Mustang sat in plain view, its tarp removed, a seal affixed across the opening of the hood.

I said, “Hi. I’m Kinsey. We met this morning.” I flicked a look toward the driveway, hoping to see the deputy arriving, but no such luck.

“I know who you are. What’s all this?”

“A sheriff’s deputy should be here shortly. Lieutenant Dolan thinks this might be the vehicle used to transport our victim. He wants to have it checked.”

“What’s that mean?”

I put a casual shrug in my voice. “It’s no big deal. He wants the evidence technicians to go over it.”

“And Dad knows about this?”

“I’m assuming so,” I said, lying through my teeth. “I’m not sure what the lieutenant told him. You’d have to ask him.”

Cornell frowned. He dropped his cigarette and stepped on it. “How long’s this going to take?”

“Probably no more than a couple of days.” I was hoping it wouldn’t occur to him we’d be removing the Mustang from the premises. Also, hauling it north where he probably wouldn’t see the car again for months. I didn’t want to deal with him if he raised a big stink.

He hunched his shoulders. “The law allows you to just waltz in this way? You’re on private property out here, same as the house. My dad owns everything as far as that fence.

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