The Reluctant Coroner: Book One of the Fenway Stevenson Mysteries by Paul Austin Ardoin

The Reluctant Coroner: Book One of the Fenway Stevenson Mysteries by Paul Austin Ardoin

Author:Paul Austin Ardoin [Ardoin, Paul Austin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pax Ardsen Books


Chapter Sixteen

She had a dream where she was in her bed—but it was in her bed at her mother’s house in Seattle. It was raining, and she sat up, lightning flashed, and Lana was standing at the foot of her bed with a big Dirty Harry-style gun.

“You’re nothing but a dirty whore,” dream-Lana sneered, and fired the gun with a blinding muzzle flash.

Fenway woke with a start. It was still light outside. She checked the time; it was almost six. She had enough time to find a dress in her closet, do her hair, and get ready. She shook the cobwebs out of her head. She didn’t feel she was ready to talk to her father, but she didn’t want to spend the night in, either. She was wary of being alone with her thoughts of Lana, and getting shot, and her Russian Lit professor swarming her mind.

She was ready a little after seven thirty. Fenway picked a high-necked, purple A-line dress with long sleeves, with a hem ending at her knees. There was a shift dress in her closet she liked more, but she thought it was a little too casual for Maxime’s. It also needed to be ironed, and she didn’t have the time. She put her hair up and remembered she had left her Red Sox cap, with the bullet hole in the bill, in the office.

There was a knock at her door at about seven-forty. It was her father.

“Hi, Fenway.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking a step back. He was in the same suit and tie she had seen him in during the meeting before lunch. “Did you just get off work?”

“Yes. No rest for the wicked.”

Fenway gave a tight smile. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. Are you sure you’re okay? After the day you’ve had?”

“I napped. And it will be good for me to get out of the apartment and take my mind off this.”

“I’m glad. Plus, I have a surprise for you.”

“Today has been full of surprises; I’m not sure I can handle another one.” They stepped out and she locked the door behind them.

“I think you might like this one.”

They walked down the stairs to the parking lot. There was a black Mercedes S500 in the visitor’s space, which Fenway assumed was his car; there was a man in a dark suit behind the wheel, who was probably Ferris’s driver. But in her assigned parking space—which had been empty up to this point—was a silver Honda Accord. Her father went over and stood next to it.

“Surprise.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a black car remote and key.

She balked. “You got me a car?”

“Now look, I know you think I’m trying to buy you off with this—”

“Well—”

“Let me finish,” Ferris said.

Fenway clamped her mouth shut.

“You literally just got to town, Fenway. You’ve barely had time to unpack, and you’ve been dumped in the middle of this time-sucking investigation. You’re going to have



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