Haunted Homicide by Lucy Ness

Author:Lucy Ness
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2020-09-29T00:00:00+00:00

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Did Tab inherit Muriel’s fortune?

It was an interesting question, and one I’d have to dig into when I had time.

The way it was, when I got back to the club, it was late, it was dark, and after watching Bill and Brittany eat their dinner, I listened to my stomach rumble and realized I was starving.

Just as I rolled by the front of the club, I saw a movement in the shadows near the front door, just out of the circle of the glow of the security light, and when I pulled my car closer, I saw the shadow detach itself from the darker shadows around it.

I made sure my car doors were locked and reached for the phone just as the person stepped into the light. That’s when I breathed a sigh of relief and put down my car window.

“Oz, what are you doing here?”

He sauntered over looking all official in the kind of beige trench coat so many cops wear in so many movies. “Looking for you, of course.”

“I was . . .” How could I explain that I’d been out interviewing suspects? Rather than try, I shrugged and pointed across the parking lot to the space where I usually left my car. “I’ll be right back,” I told him.

Leave it to a cop not to allow a woman to walk across a dark parking lot all by herself.

By the time I got out of the car, he was right there waiting for me.

“When I realized you weren’t here, I was all set to leave and I figured I’d just call you in the morning. I still can. If it’s too late.”

It was late. I was whooped.

“How do you feel about pasta?” I asked him.

“Depends if I’m cooking it or just eating it.”

“Quentin made the sauce. I think I have the culinary skills to deal with the noodles.”

He grinned. “Well, since I was pretty sure my dinner tonight would have been from the drive-through at McDonald’s, that sounds perfect to me!”

Inside, I turned on the lights in the hallway and the dining room, and once we were back in the kitchen, I put a pot of water on to boil and found the container of sauce Quentin had earmarked for me, put the sauce in a pan, and set it on the stove to heat.

“You’re working.” Not much of a deduction, since when he slipped out of his raincoat, I saw that Oz was wearing a dark suit and a crisp white shirt. His tie had little dots on it, red against a navy background.

He stretched. “One thing they never emphasize enough at the police academy is the lousy hours.”

“If they did, would you have quit and done something else?”

As if he had to think about it, he cocked his head, but he answered quickly enough. “Nah. It’s in my blood. My dad was a cop. So were both his brothers. I always knew this was what I wanted to do.”

“Except for the lousy hours.

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