Skully, Perdition Games by L.E. Fraser

Author:L.E. Fraser [Fraser, L.E.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Canadian Detectives, crime thrillers, psychological suspense, suspense, women sleuths, Female protagonist, mystery series
Publisher: L.E. Fraser
Published: 2015-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Sam

LONDON’S NORTON ESTATE was a nice circa-1960s suburb, and Mrs. Shannon’s house was a side-split, brick ranch with stunning flower gardens. The neighbourhood gave Sam an odd feeling of déjà vu.

Parking at the side of road near the Shannon home, she got out and walked toward a woman crouched in the grass beside a peony bush. “Mrs. Shannon?”

The woman stood and shaded her eyes. “That’s right.”

She looked to be in her early sixties. Her hair was short and the dark brown dye job was a home effort. She was wearing a short-sleeved blouse and a loose pair of blue cotton pants with bright pink rubber protectors strapped around her knees.

Sam handed her a business card and identification. “I’m a private investigator from Toronto, and I’d like to ask you some questions about the LeBlanc family, if you don’t mind.”

Mrs. Shannon pulled off one of her gardening gloves and took a pair of reading glasses from the pocket of her blouse. Her eyes darted from the card to Sam, her expression a mix of bewilderment and distress.

Puzzled, Sam asked, “Is everything okay?”

“I, ah, it’s just I haven’t heard that name in a while.” Her demeanour went from polite to closed-off in a matter of seconds. “What’s this all about?” She brushed dirt from the seat of her pants.

“Do you recall the family?”

“Of course.” She wasn’t meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Did you know their eldest daughter?”

She nodded curtly. “I did.”

Hoping to shock the woman into being more helpful, Sam said, “The Toronto police believe she was murdered.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Murdered? That’s awful.” She didn’t ask follow-up questions, but Sam sensed some of her resistance give way.

“I’m working for her husband’s lawyer,” she said, leaving out the tiny detail about Derek’s arrest.

“Well,” Mrs. Shannon bent to collect her gardening tools, “we can’t be having a conversation about murder on the front lawn.” Plopping the tools into a wicker basket, she headed for the house.

Taking that as her cue, Sam followed.

Inside the house, Mrs. Shannon scurried to a side table, snatched a photo, and stuffed it in a desk drawer. Her eyes roamed around the room and she moved two more photos.

Curiosity piqued, Sam took her shoes off in the doorway and noted where Mrs. Shannon put the pictures, in case she should have a moment alone to see what all the fuss was about.

Mrs. Shannon beckoned her into the kitchen. “I can offer you iced tea.”

Sam hated iced tea, but accepted to be polite. “How well did you know the LeBlanc family?”

Mrs. Shannon took a pitcher from the fridge, poured two glasses, and handed one to Sam. “Not well,” she said. “My boys are younger.”

“How old are your boys?” Sam swallowed a mouthful of cold tea and tried to hide her grimace.

“Jeremy and Ralph are Irish twins, as they say, so there’s a year between them. They’re twenty-nine and twenty-eight.” She sat at the table across from Sam. “Ryan’s twenty-five.”

“How old is Isabella?”

Mrs. Shannon looked at her as if she was crazy. “How old is Isabella?”

“Yes, Isabella LeBlanc.

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