Sharpe Turn, Murder by the Book by Lisa B. Thomas

Author:Lisa B. Thomas [Thomas, Lisa B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cozy Stuff and Such, LLC
Published: 2016-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

SNUGGLING WITH GARY would have to wait. She called Guttman who was, not surprisingly, still in his office. He told her to come by and show him the picture.

The receptionist led her back to Guttman’s office.

Deena was surprised when he stood to greet her.

“Glad you stopped by, Mrs. Sharpe. I talked to your attorney and told him your story checked out.”

“Yes, he called me. Thanks.” She wondered why she was thanking him since she hadn’t done anything wrong in the first place.

“I have a few questions for you about the salon and that hairstylist, Melissa Engels.”

“Before we get into that, I wanted you to look at this picture.” She pulled it from her purse.

“Oh, right. The picture.”

“This is a drawing my brother made from Cliff’s description of the guy who helped him load the wine cooler into Mrs. Dekker’s car.” She passed the paper across the desk. “We saw him again this afternoon across the street from the funeral home. Maybe someone here will recognize him or be able to track him down.”

Guttman’s mouth twitched as he looked at the picture. “You say you saw this man today by the funeral home?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

Guttman laid the picture on the desk and thumbed through a stack of folders on the credenza. He found the one he wanted and opened it. He pulled out a photograph and showed it to Deena. “Is this the man you saw today?”

It was a small mug shot. Deena squinted to focus her eyes on the man’s face. Clearly, it was the same person she had seen earlier. “Yes. That’s him. Who is he?”

Guttman took back the photo and picked up the phone. He punched a red button. “Get me the captain, pronto.” He hung up. His face had turned from stoic to frenzied.

“Mrs. Sharpe, you have been very helpful.” He put the picture back into the folder.

“Are you going to tell me who he is?” She couldn’t believe he was shooing her away. “Come on Detective, I used to be a reporter. Throw me a bone.”

“Sorry, can’t. Not yet, anyway.” He stood and came around the side of his desk. “I’ll be in touch, Mrs. Sharpe. As soon as we have this guy in custody—”

He clamped his mouth shut, obviously having leaked more info than his closed spout had intended. She grinned and headed out the door. No use pushing her luck. She wanted him as an ally. “Thanks,” she said again.

She walked out to the parking lot. Someone in a car parked in the back of the lot shrank down in the seat just as she looked that direction. It was her custom to scan her surroundings anytime she was coming or going from a place alone. Lord knows she had preached that to her students often enough. She couldn’t tell if the shrinker in the white Ford was a man or a woman. Maybe she should drive a little closer to try to figure out the car’s model.

She got in her own car and locked the doors.

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