A Killing (The Reed Ferguson Mystery Series Book 19) by Renee Pawlish

A Killing (The Reed Ferguson Mystery Series Book 19) by Renee Pawlish

Author:Renee Pawlish [Pawlish, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Creative Cat Press
Published: 2020-05-09T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Seventeen

When I went back to Ward’s house, Glenda’s car was no longer parked in the driveway. I had thought I would update her on my conversation with Norm Finch, but that wasn’t going to happen now. She’d said she was going to spend some time searching Ward’s house for other clues to the treasure. Since she’d left, that didn’t seem to be the case. It appeared she wanted me to do the legwork. Then I gave her the benefit of the doubt. She might have been called to do something else. I made a mental note to catch up with her soon, then went to my car and called Cal. No answer.

“Keeping me in suspense,” I muttered. Just like I had with Glenda, not telling her what I suspected about the chess set until we met at Ward’s house. What was the saying: turnabout is fair play. I laughed to myself, turned on The Smiths, another of my favorite ’80s bands, and headed to the Starbucks on Ninth and Corona. When I got there, I saw Cal’s beat-up Honda Civic sitting in the parking lot. That man has to make good money, but he still drives the beat-up car that he’d had for years. Maybe Holly would inspire him to upgrade?

When I walked into the Starbucks, Cal was sitting at a table in the corner, his laptop in front of him, a black backpack leaning against the table leg. He wore a blue dress shirt and khakis, and his wavy brown hair was neatly trimmed and combed. This was unusual. In the past, he rarely cared much about his appearance. Holly was having quite the effect on him.

He looked up, saw me, and waved me over. “You want a cup of coffee?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I like coffee, but I’ve been to enough coffee shops in the last few days, I don’t want to drink anymore. Right now, even the coffee smell is a bit disconcerting.”

He laughed. “Ah, the life of a detective.”

“Yeah, it’s really glamorous.”

“You realize you’re offending coffee drinkers all over the world?”

“My apologies to them.” I eyed him. “Don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me what’s going on.”

He smiled. “Sorry I didn’t reply to your text. I got involved on a client call.”

I narrowed my eyes, not sure if he was telling the truth or if he was messing with me.

“I checked Matt McCoy’s phone records,” he said. “You’re not going to believe what I found.”

I sat back and crossed my arms. “What?”

“You said that Glenda had taken Matt home after you all were at the bar the other night, correct?”

I nodded. “Yes, and at first he said he was home for the evening. Then he said he’d called Belle and went over to see her.”

He smiled slyly. “He didn’t talk to Belle, at least not that night, or not from his phone.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I found no phone records with a call to her that night, but he did call her the next day at about ten.



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