The Harvesters: A Detective Devora Lobos Novel by William J Manning

Author:William J Manning [Manning, William J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Merryweather’s residence, Coconut Grove

The residence is a large two-story sandstone house encircled by a tall brick fence with an electric gate. Munroe drives up to the intercom and pushes the page button.

“Hello?” A woman answers.

“Is this Mrs. Merryweather?”

“It is. Who’s asking?”

“This is Special Agent Munroe of the FBI and Special Agent Lobos of the DEA. We need to discuss your husband, Doctor Merryweather. May we come in?”

“Oh, uh yes, come on in, agents. Just let me buzz you in.” The gate opens up, and we drive down the cobblestone driveway and park behind the wife’s car. We step out of Munroe’s SUV and head up to the front door. A lanky brunette with an hourglass figure meets us at the door. She looks to be in her early 50s. “Come right in. I have coffee or tea if you’re interested.”

“No thanks, we’re fine,” I say.

“Oh well, in that case, let’s head into the parlor room where the kid’s playtime won’t interrupt us.”

Passing through the living room, the kids are too distracted with a first-person shooter game to even notice us strolling through the living room. The parlor room is a room full of bookshelves and classy looking lounge chairs positioned around a large wooden coffee table. Matching brown leather footstools sit next to the leather lounge chairs. Munroe sits in the chair next to me, and the wife sits across from us, sipping her coffee.

Munroe pulls out her notepad. “Mrs. Merryweather, when was the last time you saw your husband?”

“Yesterday afternoon. He’s been real busy with work lately. He’s had to perform quite a few emergency surgeries lately.”

Pfft yeah, I bet.

“What kind of surgeries? Did he say?” Munroe asks.

She shrugs. “I don’t know he never went into the details of his surgeries, Agent Munroe.”

“So he never talked about his patients in casual conversations. I find that really hard to believe,” I add.

“The only patients he ever complained about were some of his elderly patients being stubborn about taking their meds, but as far as his surgeries, no. Why are you people here asking about him? Did something happen to my husband?”

I let out a sigh. “Mrs. Merryweather, what I’m about to tell you will be hard to hear and believe, but your husband needs help.”

Her brow furrows. “Agent Lobos, what happened to my husband? Is he okay?”

“Far from it, Mrs. Merryweather. Your husband is a key suspect in all those people going missing around Miami.”

She scoffs and scowls at both of us. “You two have some nerve you come into my home making disgusting accusations about my Jon with no proof. Get out of my house before I call my attorney!”

Munroe yanks her cell out of her pocket and pulls up the video. “I hope he’s a good one. Because it’s going to take a Jedi fucking mind trick to beat this kind of evidence.”

She stares at the video in horror, her lower lip quivers. Her face turns beet red with anger, and she snatches the phone out of Munroe’s hand, and before we can get it from her, she deletes the video.

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