Weaver's Needle by Caroll Robin;

Author:Caroll, Robin; [Caroll, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 4858636
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2017-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

Phillip Fontenot was actually quite likable.

Nickolai chuckled as Phillip regaled him with yet another story of his and Bartholomew’s misspent youth. Phillip pulled the rental car into the mechanic shop’s parking lot.

“Ahh, I’m gonna miss making memories with Bart.”

“I’ve not heard anyone else call him that.” Nickolai released his seat belt but didn’t move. Phillip hadn’t turned off the engine, and Nickolai had learned never to cut off a potential suspect when he was on a talking spree.

Phillip laughed and slapped his thigh. “That’s because he hated it. With a passion. Would knock someone’s block off for calling him that. So, of course, I had to call him Bart all the time. Or Barty. He hated that even more.” He eased the car into PARK.

Nickolai grinned. He and Chris had that kind of friendship. Knowing what aggravated the other and playing to that. “I’ve been there.” He didn’t reach for the door handle. As long as Phillip made no move to get out, neither would he. “My partner and I are like that.”

Resting his hands on the steering wheel, Phillip shifted to face Nickolai. “Look, you know that Landry gal is a cutie, that’s for sure, but we both know this kind of business ain’t for a female. I’m rooting, you know, for you to find the map.”

Nickolai smiled, not sure how to respond. Phillip’s cluster of “you knows” meant the subject was a sensitive one. Nickolai needed to respond carefully. A week ago, he’d have buddied up with the older man, but now … having gotten to know Landry as he had, and feeling … what?—he didn’t know what to say.

“So where are you on finding it?” Phillip pushed.

“Well …” How much should he say? “I’m making strides. I know who sold it to Bartholomew and why. I know there wasn’t really another bidder upping the price, but I know who made it look that way. I know a copy of the map is here and it’s not as familiar as others from the area.”

“I see.” Phillip frowned, clearly not pleased with Nickolai’s progress. “Do you believe the murderer is also the one who took the map?”

“It’s the logical answer.” Nickolai studied the older man’s facial nuances, called microexpressions. The little ones that he didn’t even know he was making but that a cop was trained to pick up on. “I see no other reason why Bartholomew would have been murdered on that exact day, at that exact time he was going into the bank with the map.”

Phillip plucked a string from his shirt and cleared his throat. “Ahh … well, it does seem like too much of a coincidence.”

Nickolai mentally counted off three signs of deception—self-grooming, clearing his throat, and significant pause. Phillip knew more. “I want to make sure I’m thorough, though. That I run down every lead.”

“The police back home aren’t saying much about where they are with the murder investigation.”

With the commander overseeing the case, there’d be no information leaks, or heads would roll. “I’m sure it’s hard to be patient, but you want to make sure the right person is brought to justice.

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