Weddings Can Be Murder by Christie Craig

Author:Christie Craig [Christie Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781428505001
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Published: 2007-04-24T04:00:00+00:00

Leaving the florist, Carl noticed the temperature had risen nearly twenty degrees. Houston was back to feeling like Houston. Carl looked up at the blue sky as he hit the clicker and unlocked his car. He’d just gotten behind the wheel when his phone rang.

“Yeah?”

“Carl Hades?” the voice asked.

“You got him.”

“This is Will Reed, with Reed’s DJ. Your card and a note was taped to my door. You needed something?”

The man sounded nervous. “Yes. I was hoping to meet with you to discuss a wedding.” There was silence. “Mr. Reed?”

“I’m sorry. Your card said ‘private investigator.’ I thought it was about something else.”

“I get that a lot.” Carl focused on the man’s voice, hoping he might recognize it as being the man who’d tried to burn him and Red alive. “Everyone has something to hide.” He tried to sound light.

“I guess,” Reed said, still sounding cautious. Too cautious.

“Are you home now? Can I swing by?”

“I’m busy cutting CDs. Why don’t you check out my Web site? If you’re interested, we can talk later.”

In the background, Carl heard music, wedding music. If he pushed Mr. Reed for answers too quickly, the guy might get suspicious. Maybe even as suspicious as Carl felt. “I’d really like to talk to you today.”

“Can’t do it. But tomorrow would be fine. Around three?”

Maybe by then Carl would have his background info, but damn, he didn’t like waiting. “I guess I’ll have to be patient.”

“And feel free to bring your bride with you. Brides are generally the ones with the most input on music.”

Carl’s suspicion deepened. “She’s working out of town, so I’m stuck doing all the women’s work.”

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“I’ll be there.” Carl hung up and grabbed a note pad from his glove box. He wrote down the time beside Mr. Will Reed’s number and address. Then he dialed his brother.

“Hades,” his brother answered.

“How soon can you get background checks?”

“Maybe by tomorrow. Maybe next year,” Ben said.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s a sick bastard. Visits the bodies. Leaves flowers.”

Carl glanced up at the florist’s shop. “I really need those background checks, Ben.”

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