Blind Eye Mystery Series by Diane Anderson-Minshall

Author:Diane Anderson-Minshall [Anderson-Minshall, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ! Yes
ISBN: 9781933110721
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2011-11-27T06:00:00+00:00

BLIND LEAP

“Yes.”

“That is not enough to be distributing,” Yoshi said. “It must be for personal use. If either of us had arrived with an evidence collection kit in hand, we could conceivably contain it and release it to the authorities for proper disposal. However—”

“Can’t we just ß ush it?”

“No. The hazardous chemicals can attach to water molecules.

Those are not removed fully from the sewage treatment process. The remainder eventually washes downstream to the ocean and contaminates Þ sh.”

With the mattress back in place, they returned the piles of clothing to the bed. Not that Tyrone would notice. Yoshi suggested that to more efÞ ciently utilize their time, they split up and take different rooms.

She would examine the remainder of the bedroom and then move to the bathroom while Tucker started with Jeff’s ofÞ ce, searching the Þ le drawers for Þ nancial and legal papers. Yoshi directed her to take digital photos of any papers of potential interest.

“I didn’t bring a digital camera,” Tucker admitted sheepishly.

“Just this throwaway one.”

“That’s perfectly all right, I have mine in my purse. Here.” Yoshi held out the small rectangular camera.

“You carry a camera?” Tucker asked.

Yoshi sighed. She got so tired of explaining that, just because she could not see, she was not incompetent. “It is a fully automated camera. It automatically focuses and adjusts the light. It allows me to take snapshots that I can relay to Bud or another investigator. Then the photographs can be carefully examined for clues I might have overlooked.”

“Oh, cool. You are so smart, Yoshi. I would never have thought of that.”

Thank Goodness. It would be time to hang up her skates if a PI-in-training receptionist outsmarted her.

Yoshi sorted through the clothes on the bedroom ß oor, snifÞ ng the shirts. Some smelled like they had been drenched in sweat, maybe from nights of frenetic meth-fueled dance marathons. Sweat elicited by fear and anxiety smelled different from exercise sweat. Other garments reeked of cigarette smoke and hard alcohol, and she could distinguish nearly a dozen discrete fragrances, several of which coded

“Jeff.”

• 113 •

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