Smells Like Murder by Peyton Dinwiddie

Author:Peyton Dinwiddie [Dinwiddie, Peyton]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-07T16:00:00+00:00

“Cole, we meet again,” Jaime hailed. He leaned back in his chair, studying his unexpected visitor critically.

Cole adjusted himself in his seat. “For the second time, glad to see you again,” he responded politely. He extended his hand toward Jaime for a handshake, but Jaime ignored his gesture.

“What do you want this time? Last time I checked, the cops have not invited you back for further questioning.” He sneered.

Cole had hated Jaime’s guts since Angelo's murder case that had brought him to the station over one week earlier. Jaime came across as cocky, rude, and pompous, but Cole found him interesting because, in some peculiar way, they seemed to have a lot in common, and some of that was due to their egos and stubbornness.

Cole scowled. “Relax. I'm not here to foment trouble. I'm here to help instead.” He shrugged and added quickly, “That is if you’ll allow me to.”

Jaime’s condescending stares could kill, but Cole was unfazed. “You are a journalist, and I know you—I don’t want you twisting my words in the name of helping me out with something that doesn’t concern you in the first place,” he said with a wicked grin.

“Angelo's gang murder concerns me. That’s how I came to know this station, don’t forget that,” Cole retorted coldly, once more offended by Jaime’s arrogance.

“So, you have helpful information about the gang members now?” Jaime asked.

“No, but something similar,” Cole started. “I heard in the news yesterday morning about the mass murders of women in this town.” He paused to see Jaime’s reaction, but none came, so he went on. “The news said the culprit behind these killings may be the same person, a male burglar whose only targets were women.”

“So, what’s your point?” Jaime asked impatiently.

“I want to believe that you know about these cases.”

“I'm the chief of police in this town, so I know a lot of things.

“Get to the point—I don’t have all day,” he snapped tersely.

“I want to help the police with the investigation; I want in,” he demanded.

Jaime chuckled scornfully and tapped on his desk, eyeing Cole as if he were out of his mind.

“You are not from Santo Bahía, so you can’t be involved,” he said finally.

Cole’s anger boiled, and he wagged his index finger menacingly at Jaime. “Don’t ever say that to me again!” he snarled, seething. “I'm not from here, but a bouncer was killed in my presence outside of a club where I hung out with my girlfriend. I'm not from here, but my car was egged in a parking lot. I'm not from here, but I'm lodged in a hotel where the news of a serial killer roaming freely on the streets was aired. Are you crazy? If I'm not safe, and my girl’s life is in danger in another man’s land, then I have the right to get involved. Forget this citizenship shit and let me in. I'm a seasoned journalist. Show me some respect!” He hit the table in anger.

His outburst seemed to work on Jaime, who softened some after his protest.

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