Second Hand Smoke: Blood on Wolfe's Words by Capron Bill

Author:Capron, Bill [Capron, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Dark Matters Publishing
Published: 2015-02-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9 - Saturday, June 24 - 5:00 am

“Hey, look who’s here?” Carla threw her arms around Robin, and then pushed herself away. “I’m sorry. I got a little familiar there, didn’t I?”

He said, “No.”

She twisted her neck up at him, shook her head and hugged him again. “Oh, what the hell. It’s good to see your face. We’ve been so worried.” Her rain matted hair left a wet spot against his chest.

Canby, Peter and George nodded their hellos, as if running with a suspected murderer wasn’t high on their lists.

George spoke first, “So, Robin, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working on your defense?”

“I’m running, George, that’s what I’m doing.” He spread his arms and filled his lungs with fresh air. “I’m getting on with my life.” He cupped his hands around his left foot and stretched his back. The others were silent, watching, waiting. He felt their eyes on him. “I’m here because you’re the brightest group I hang with, excluding George of course.”

There was an ice breaking titter. Canby said, “Amen to that.”

More seriously Robin explained, “I need to understand what’s happening to me.”

The three men looked doubtful, Carla expectant.

“Hey, I want to pick your brains.”

Peter, the therapist, said, “Sounds good to me. Anyway, that’s how I make my living. And what are friends for? Canby’s an ex-cop, now a lawyer. I’m a head guy. George is a defrocked priest. Carla’s a nurse. You’ll be making use of science, law enforcement, medicine and religion. That’s a good start.”

Robin grinned. “That’s right. I need help, and you are the guys for it.”

Carla tilted her head to ask, “Do any of your other women get tired of being called ‘the guys’?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She loped out to the street, calling over her shoulder, “So, let’s run. It’s not like we can’t talk, eh?”

Robin caught up with her and the others pulled up even on both sides. “So how much do you know?” he asked.

Carla shook her head and sent a fine spray into the air. “We were talking about it when you showed up. We got here early because we were worried. I might add, one of us guys more worried than the others.”

From Canby, “We know what’s in the paper, and on TV.”

Robin turned his cap to keep the water off the back of his neck. He asked, “And what do they say?”

Canby yelped, “What! You’re not watching your life story?”

He shook his head. “I can’t take it. I mean, they’re talking about someone else with my name; it’s like identity theft.”

Canby took him through a brief synopsis of the common knowledge, with additions and corrections from the others.

Robin’s only comment was, “That’s how the police see it.”

Carla moved up next to him and hung onto his elbow. “So what’s your story, you tall dark and handsome Svengali-like leader of FindIt?” Everybody laughed.

He put his legs on automatic. “Let me start with the last two days, everything that happened. Canby and Peter were with me a bunch of those hours on both sides of the murder.

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