Turkey, Thievery, and Twins by Brittany E. Brinegar

Author:Brittany E. Brinegar [Brittany E. Brinegar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Britt Lizz Publishing
Published: 2023-11-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Feather in Your Cap

Lizzie

After leaving the police station, Doak and I spent the better part of twenty minutes searching for McDuffie but no one had seen him since the fire. My stomach knotted as my suspicion intensified. If I was right about the troubadour, he might be halfway to Mexico with the pilgrim journal.

Raindrops pelted the brim of Doak’s cowboy hat like a gunslinger in a western. “He’s due back on stage in fifteen minutes. He likely didn’t go far.”

“Unless he isn’t sticking around for the matinee.”

“The rain’s getting worse. Maybe we should go inside the theater and wait for him to show.”

I squinted at the sky as droplets drummed against my umbrella. The thick gray clouds showed no signs of letting up. My brow furrowed as I spotted movement on a roof. A dark shadow in a cowboy hat leaned over the edge, watching the town below. I followed his sightline to the gazebo, unsure what he found so interesting.

My boots splashed in a puddle as I raced across the street to the pharmacy. “Someone’s up there.”

Doak tilted his hat. “Is that McDuffie?”

“Sure looks like him.”

“What’s he doing up there?”

“Starting another fire?” I ran around the two-story brick building. “How do we access the roof?”

Doak snagged my umbrella hook and stretched for the fire escape ladder. When I tried to climb on first, he held up a hand. “Let’s pretend for a second I’m the cop in this scenario.”

“You’re a rookie deputy in training.”

“And I outrank a college student who interns for a private eye.” He spit in his palms for a better grip and hustled up the ladder. “When you finish Quantico, I promise to let you go first.”

The iron ladder mixed with rain to produce an overwhelming rusty, metallic odor. “What do you suppose McDuffie is doing on the roof?” My hand slipped and my boot missed a railing. I clutched the slick bar with all my might.

Doak showed off his balance by leaning backward and holding on one handed. “Are you okay down there?”

“Peachy.” I sucked in a breath and continued to climb.

He reached over the edge of the roof and pulled me up. “Why don’t we talk to him instead of theorizing endlessly?”

I brushed a hand over my peacoat as I carefully traversed the roof. McDuffie leaned on the far other side, overlooking the town. “Ben McGuffie? We need to talk to you.”

He flicked off his radio and spun on his heel. His face flushed and contorted. “Who are you?”

“McCain County Sheriff’s Department,” Doak said pointing to his badge. “We want to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Starting with what you’re doing on the roof.”

McDuffie tugged his cowboy hat over his eyes and closed the gap between us. “I’m studying the weather. I fancy myself an amateur meteorologist.”

The answer was smooth and quick but I didn’t buy it. “And what are you doing with a police scanner?”

“I use it to pick up the weather reports.” He pointed to the radio. “I’m a bit of a pluviophiles, a lover of the weather.

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