Magic Box Murder by J.C. Kenney

Author:J.C. Kenney [J.C. Kenney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Level Best Books
Published: 2024-02-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“I told you already. I don’t know where it came from.” Darcy massaged her temples. Her attempt to turn her find over to Paul wasn’t going as expected. “I was on my way to work—”

“On your skateboard. In February, really?” The detective leaned back in his chair and stared at the interview room’s acoustical ceiling tiles.

“Yes, really. It’s supposed to be in the upper fifties today. And it’s how I get my exercise.” She crossed her arms. The defensive posture wasn’t the most helpful one to take. Paul would pick up on it. His lack of gratitude was to blame for that.

“Okay, fine.” He put his hands up in surrender as he looked at the pages that were spread across the table between them. “You found this package by the side of the trail. What made you stop?”

“Because I care about my community. I can’t stand litterbugs. Is that so wrong?”

“Of course not. Did you pick anything else up on your clean-up commute?” A slight smile betrayed his stern tone. He apparently wasn’t buying her story.

“Check the trash can outside the entrance. You’ll find a plastic grocery bag with trash in it. Today’s haul. It’s not full because once I found the plastic bag, I came straight here.”

He looked Darcy in the eye. The second hand on the clock hanging on the wall behind him made a full rotation before he turned his focus back to his notes. His shoulders sagged. They’d spent fifteen minutes going round and round about the package’s origin. All attempts to pierce a hole in Darcy’s story had failed.

After taking Jenna home the night before, she’d spent two hours coming up with the story. By the time her head had hit the pillow, she was satisfied it was bulletproof. Pleased with her preparation, she suppressed a smile. It was a small victory. The thing that mattered was that now he’d turn his attention to the information in the documents.

“Why’d you look inside the bag instead of dropping it into your little collection sack with the rest of the trash?” The man was relentless. He’d asked the same question, using different words, twice before already.

“It seemed out of place. Ninety-nine percent of the trash on the trail are things like plastic bottles, candy wrappers, beer cans. Things like that. I thought maybe someone dropped it by accident. I mean, come on, who puts a bunch of pages of ledger entries into a plastic bag and then loses them?”

“You’re certain these are from a ledger? You know who it belongs to, then.” Paul kept his expression neutral. It didn’t work. It was an obvious attempt to get her to admit something. The man’s predecessor had tried the same trick on Darcy on a handful of occasions.

With the same result.

“I’m not a hundred percent certain. I run a business, though, and those pages look like someone was tracking income and expenses. In my experience, that’s what a ledger’s for. As for who it belongs to, I have no idea.

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