cb03 Hangman's Root by Susan Wittig Albert

Author:Susan Wittig Albert [Albert, Susan Wittig]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Women Detectives, China (Fictitious character), Bayles, Herbalists
ISBN: 9780684196770
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 1994-10-02T04:00:00+00:00

The pay phone was at the end of the hall, beside a glass case that displayed a grinning skeleton suspended in an eternal danse macabre, every bone labeled for easy reference. When I punched in Kevin s number, I got a not-in-service recording. I tried Information and struck out again. No listing.

I wasn't surprised. Kevin had gotten himself hired by the department back in January, and he'd concealed his address and given a phony phone number. Clearly, he'd been planning the blackmail scheme for some time. Kevin may not have killed Harwick; the man could easily have been compelled to suicide by the fear of having his guilty secret—whatever it was—broadcast to the world. But the boy was no doubt running scared, afraid that somebody might connect him to the death. He might even be running. For all I knew, he was already in Mazatlan or Juarez.

Which left Amy. I didn't know her phone number, and neither did Information. Ruby probably knew it, but she was unreachable. So I got in my Datsun, surrendered my parking card to the surly guard as I left the campus, and drove to the Pecan Springs Mall at 1-35 and Juniper Hills Drive, where Ruby had said Amy worked in a pet store. It turned out to be something called PetPlaza, an upscale pet supermarket that stocks the heart's desire of every animal companion under the sun. It's all there: a

mind-boggling shop-till-you-drop half-acre of fleece-lined doggie beds, kitty toilet seats, high-intensity continuous-acting ultrasonic flea eliminators, and one (only) top-quality, made-in-America brass-trimmed oak doggie casket, white satin blanket and pillow included, marked down to $149.99 for a limited time, sorry, no discount. The casket could have held two dozen guinea pigs.

Amy was on her knees stocking cat toys in an aisle called "Your Pet's Funtime." Vigilant as usual, she spotted me coming, got up, and started to walk away. I cornered her at the end of the aisle between a display of Fabulous Feline Fun Furniture and a bin of Tabby Teaser Toys.

"Kevin Scott?" She shook her head when I asked her, but she didn't quite meet my eyes. "I don't know him." She started to push past me. "I've got to get to work. I have to get that box unloaded before the boss comes back."

I stepped in front of her and looked up. She was as tall as her mother, and the determined set of her shoulders reminded me, painfully, of Ruby. "Of course you know him," I said, softening my tone. "The guy who picked you up on Friday night. The yellow Camaro with a bad case of bashed fender."

She shook her head, stubborn. "That was my friend Lou. He was driving his roommate's car."

"I've met Kevin. I've heard him st-st-stutter. I heard him say Ok-k-kay when you got in the car."

I had to give it to her. She was tough. And quick. "Lots of people stutter," she said. "Lou stutters. It's so bad that the only kind of job he can get is one where he doesn't have to talk to people.

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