Cold Quarry Read Online Free Page A

yet in the ground.
    But instead he said, “I suppose you guys have heard I’m the one found Chester the other day.”
    “Right. We know.”
    I hadn’t, in fact, but obviously Toronto had known so I said nothing.
    “I’d really like to talk with you guys about it. I mean, you two used to be cops, right? And nothin’ like that’s ever happened to me before.”
    “You must’ve already talked to the police, didn’t you?”
    “Yeah, but you guys knew Chester, and I want to get your take on it. I got some ideas of my own about who mighta killed him.”
    “Oh, yeah? You think we got time for that, Frank?”
    I guessed my gunman had been about the same age as Farraday; not as tall, however.
    “Plus, Betty wanted me to ask if you two will be stopping by the house before you leave town,” Farraday said. “There’ll be a bunch of folks and food and stuff, but, Frank … she especially says she’d like to talk with you.”
    I glanced back at Marcia and Nicole and at the remnants of mud on my clothes. I also felt the inside of my swollen lip with my tongue. “Be happy to talk with her,” I said.
    Another mourner, a woman, came along in front of us. She was of medium build, wore her wavy blond hair in a short bob, and was dressed from head to toe in the chocolate-brown uniform of a West Virginia conservation agent, a forty-caliber Smith & Wesson handgun holstered to her side. Farraday introduced her. Her name was Gwen Hallston.
    “So you must be the famous Jake Toronto.” She looked Toronto up and down. “Heard a lot about you from Chester.”
    “Mmm. …” Toronto said.
    She said she had had a great deal of respect and admiration for the old falconer.
    “He’ll be missed, that’ for sure,” I said.
    “You going by the house now?” Farraday asked her.
    “No. I’ve got to head down to Cabin Creek for a meeting.”
    “Can I ask you something?” I said.
    “Of course.”
    “What’s your opinion of how Chester died? You buy into this hunter theory?”
    She shrugged. “We get our share of hunting deaths, that’s true. Except, of course, it’s usually the people carrying the guns.”
    I nodded.
    “The shooter could’ve been lost or might’ve been poaching. He could’ve thought he was firing at a deer or a bear, maybe even a wild boar. Or it could’ve just been some yahoo with a rifle stoned out of his mind. Had a guy last year said he thought he was trying to take down an elk. He said that after he’d blown apart someone’s backyard birdfeeder with his black-powder rifle. We get a few of those kinds too.”
    “Are you saying the person might not have known they were on Chester’s land?”
    “Exactly. Those posted signs deteriorate. Chester hadn’t kept them maintained.”
    “You must know a lot of the deer hunters around here. Any particular suspects come to mind?”
    She laughed, scratching her arm. “Most of the hunters around here are pretty responsible. … Something like this? Drive down the road and flip a coin. You might as well start searching every vehicle.”
    “Okay,” I said.
    She eyed me thoughtfully for a moment. “You don’t mind me asking, Mr. Pavlicek, what’s your interest in all this?”
    “I knew Chester from falconry. Jake here was also my sponsor when I started.”
    “I see. …”
    “Frank’s a private investigator,” Farraday interjected.
    “No kidding?” She raised her eyebrows toward me. “Don’t get involved in shooting cases too often though, do you?”
    “Not when I can help it,” I said.
    “You got any ideas, you best share them with the sheriff’s department.”
    “Sure. Thanks.”
    She said it had been nice meeting us and moved on.
    Marcia and Nicole had come abreast of us. “Hey,” I said. “You folks up for stopping by the Carews’ house first, maybe grabbing something to eat, before we hit the road?”
    “I thought you were all going to head straight home, and—” Marcia stopped in midsentence, obviously remembering our earlier words