An Intimate Murder (The Catherine O'Brien Series) Read Online Free Page A

for a quote.”
    My heartbeat thrummed in my ears. I stuck two fingers in my mouth, turned toward the street, and let out a high-pitched whistle, a talent my Father had taught me when I was young. The two uniformed officers guarding the front turned in unison.
    I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Send someone around back to arrest anyone they find in the back yard. Charge them with trespassing.”
    The older officer gave a brief nod then pulled his radio from his belt, and made a call for help. I gave him the thumbs up sign, which he returned.
    “I apologize, Mrs. Hind,” Louise said. “We try but sometime the media’s zeal eclipses their commonsense.”
    Pam nodded and tsked as if she knew this instinctively. “Come inside. Chad’s in the living-room.”
    The two-story entryway glowed in a sun-golden color that made my entire body feel warm and I shivered off fall’s chill. Three doorways and a staircase merged onto the entryway, like roads converging on a four-way stop. Through the doorway to the right was Pam Hind’s living room.
    Chad Luther sat wrapped in a forest-green, polar-fleece blanket in a recliner by the fireplace. The flames licked at the bricks on the surround, as if Pam were worried that a reporter would pull a Santa Claus on her to get a quote.
    “Has he said anything yet?” I asked.
    “No.” She sighed and hugged her arms as if the chill from my body had transferred to hers. “I tried to talk to him but he just glared at me.”
    “Glared at you?” Louise said. “Like he’s in a daze?”
    Pam closed her eyes. “Maybe I’m misinterpreting, but the look was actually more like he blamed me. Maybe he’s just in shock.”
    “Maybe,” Louise agreed.
    We made eye contact for a brief second. In that second, we exchanged more information than Pam Hind could have picked up.
    “We need to speak with Chad,” I said.
    “I’m not sure you’ll be able to get anything from him,” she said. “But I have no right to stop you from trying.”
    Chad Luther turned bleary eyes toward us without seeming to register our presence. An ember snapped from the fire and he jerked his head away from us to stare at the hearth. Louise sat on the sofa across from him.
    “Can I get you ladies anything to drink? I have a pot of coffee percolating.”
    My addiction’s want sprang to life and though I didn’t think I wanted anything to drink, I heard myself answer, “Yes, coffee please.”
    Someday I may need to confront my coffee demons but now I had other, more important problems at hand.
    Louise waved off the offer and Pam ambled out of the living room to get the coffee.
    “Chad?” Louise reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. “We need to ask you a few questions.”
    Chad Luther’s eyes closed and in a deep gravelly voice he said, “Take your hand off me and don’t ever touch me again.”
    Louise slowly drew her hand away, as if sudden movement would cause Chad to strike out like a coiled snake.
    He lolled his head toward her. The greasy mop of bangs fell over his forehead and into his eyes. He didn’t brush the hair away, which made me believe that’s where the hair usually stayed.
    “I don’t like to be touched by anyone,” he said to Louise then turned his gaze to me. “Especially not by some fucking cop.”
    Louise’s earlier assessment of Chad’s emotional fragility had been wide off the mark. This kid was going full on punk kid, attitude and all, which was fine by me. I could treat him like a punk if that’s what he wanted.
    “Did you kill your parents, Chad?” I tossed my purse on the sofa next to me and opened it as if I didn’t care what his answer or reaction would be. “What? They gave you the Spyder instead of the Bugatti so you offed them?”
    I located a pack of Wrigley’s in the side pocket of my purse, and offered a stick to Louise, before taking one of my own.
    “Fuck you, okay!” Chad strangled the edges of his blanket and shook with rage. His fingernails were