Deadly Connections (Detective Sarah Spillman Mystery Series Book 1) by Renee Pawlish

Author:Renee Pawlish
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Creative Cat Press
Published: 2020-08-04T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

I stood near the doorway to Gold Creek Gun Range for a moment. I can’t say that I was entirely surprised that Merrick had lied to me, but I had been hoping against hope that he might help more than he did. What was he hiding? I stepped aside to let a man in jeans and a leather jacket walk through the door. Merrick’s angry voice drifted outside.

“This wasn’t what I was expecting. I…”

I couldn’t hear the rest. I grabbed the door handle and let the door ease closed until it was just cracked. Then I listened. Merrick was furious.

“Yeah, you need to think better.”

I heard other voices, and some of what Merrick said was drowned out. Had he said something about meeting “him” somewhere? I let the door close as quietly as possible and hurried back to my car. I drove down the road, parked behind a sedan, rolled down the window, and watched the front of the store.

What would Merrick do next? I glanced at my phone, then got on Facebook. I went through Merrick’s posts again, but didn’t find anything that helped my investigation. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I sensed movement. I looked up and saw Merrick coming out the front door of Gold Creek, his phone plastered to his ear. Even at this distance, I could see anger etched on his face. He stomped to a big black Ram truck at the far end of the lot, got in, and peeled out of the parking lot. He drove north, and I followed.

He got on Sixth Avenue and drove east, and I was easily able to see his big monstrosity of a truck up ahead while keeping cars between us. He was speeding, and I hoped neither he nor I would get pulled over before I could find out where he was going.

We crossed over Interstate 25 and stopped at the light at Kalamath Street. When the light turned green, I quickly switched lanes, wary that the next light might change before I could get through it. I kept the truck in sight, and barely made it through yet another light. Then my luck ran out. The truck blasted through a yellow light that was red by the time I got to the intersection. I swore. Then my luck returned when the truck had to slow as it approached Broadway, a one-way street. Merrick turned right, and I sped up and weaved around another car in order to make the light myself. The truck was farther ahead, and it turned left into a Thai restaurant parking lot. I cut across two lanes of traffic and pulled into a parking place on Broadway where I could see Merrick’s truck. He got out but didn’t go into the restaurant. Instead, he leaned against the side of the truck and lit a cigarette, then smoked and looked around. I didn’t think he could see me. After a minute, a silver Toyota Tacoma pulled in and parked across from him.

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