Murder on Lot B by London Lovett

Author:London Lovett [Lovett, London]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wild Fox Press

Chapter Seventeen

The frenetic energy Jasper and I practically flew home on had mostly dissipated by the time we reached the city. The office was warm and stuffy from being locked up all morning, but I was glad to be within its secure four walls. Jasper went right to his chair, stretched his legs out and his arms back and closed his eyes to rest.

I walked around to my chair and dropped into it as if I'd just walked the entire stretch on two legs. My feet were feeling like it too. Even my practical shoes hadn't helped. Of course, mid-heel Oxfords weren't exactly made for hiking through the wilderness.

I opened my notebook to a clean page and began noting down everything we'd learned, starting with our rummage through Roger's apartment. "Let's see, green bottles, wax tops, whiskey," I muttered to myself. My hand had to move fast to keep up with all the things I had bouncing around my brain. So many things, in fact, I nearly forgot to write down something important. "Oh yes, grilled cheese and onions," I said to myself.

Jasper sat up. "Where? Sounds good."

I tapped the pen on my chin and looked up from the notepad. "Oh, I don't have any grilled cheese and onions. But I think that's the password for the speakeasy."

"Seems like a strange password, but it's sure making me hungry. Hope Doc didn't eat all the leftover stew for lunch."

I stared down at my list. We'd found the connection between Roger and the bootleggers, but how could we get closer to the man Anna mentioned, Mr. Hammersmith? Or were those his fingerprints on my arms?

"I wonder if it would have been better if that awful man had thrown me into the truck and hauled me away."

Jasper sat forward so fast his chair scooted back. "You sure you didn't hit your head back there somewhere cuz you're talking crazy." He added a finger twirl at his temple for a visual.

"No, I didn't hit my head, and naturally, I'm forever grateful that you came to my rescue." A broad smile crossed his face. "But," I continued, and his smile vanished, "they might have taken me back to their shop or facility or whatever you call a place where they're making a lot of moonshine. Then, I might have met H. Smith or Mr. Hammersmith and found some evidence pointing to a murder motive."

"Yes, I agree," Jasper said, with a self-assured nod. "The only problem with that plan is you wouldn't have been able to use the evidence once they stuffed you into an oak barrel and sent you down the river."

"You exaggerate, Jasper." I sat back and drummed my fingers on my list. "We need to get closer to these guys. I think they'll lead us to the whole Hammersmith operation. Anna seemed quite distraught when she mentioned her brother's connection. Roger was keeping a tally of bottles and customers. Was he doing it for Hammersmith or was he running a side business, maybe one that Hammersmith didn't even know about? Darn, this is a tangled mess right now.

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