Death in a Turkey Town: A Chloe Boston Mystery Read Online Free Page B

and was now a true believer in my strange abilities and wanted me to have a first look. The Chief wasn’t the only curious one though, and a couple other officers, Eddie Rounds and Keith Regan, had sidled closer to hear what I might say. They saw me as a freak, but a useful one to be temporarily tolerated.
    “Small caliber bullet—maybe a twenty-two,” I said. “She was shot in the chest at close range, but not much bleeding, so death was instantaneous. Her fingernails are intact, so she didn’t have a chance to fight her attacker and maybe mark him. Or her,” I added conscientiously. “Have you told Dale yet?”
    “Dale Gordon? No, why would I?” That was a fair question. Gordon was a lousy policeman and the Chief used him only as a last resort.
    “Because this is his ex-wife. Her name is Sylvia. She went by Silly.”
    The Chief’s jaw hung down. This time I had really impressed him. I decided not to explain my insight at that moment, though I would probably have to tell him about Althea and the vicious prank with the WD-40 because I had a strong hunch they were connected. But I saw no need to mention this in front of Eddie Rounds who is a friend of Dale Gordon’s and a terrible gossip. I reported the messy stuff only to the Chief and my incidental findings were kept off the record.
    I thought back to the shot I had heard last night and wanted to kick myself. People had been shooting at turkeys all week, but not late at night when it was cold and raining. Who would be out hunting up a free dinner at that hour?
    “She died at eleven-thirteen,” I said. The next part was hard to admit. “I heard the shot. And I ignored it. I thought it was—”
    “Someone shooting at the turkeys,” the Chief finished sympathetically. “I heard it too and didn’t give it a thought.”
    Eddie also nodded. “I bet a lot of us heard it. Sound carries real good up the canyon.”
    I kicked myself once more and then carried on calmly. “She was staying at the Morningside Inn. She had one of their gift certificates in her car—a red Corvette.” I looked around the park and saw it parked illegally by the oleander hedge near the streetlight and pointed. “That’s her car. So, she wasn’t just out for a casual walk in the rain last night. That probably means she was lured here. Check the car for a note, but I’m betting it was a phone call either to her cell or to the Inn. Probably from the pay phone over there.” I jerked my head at the last pay phone in town which was snuggled up next to the Church of Christian Science.
    Bryce had joined the circle around me. I didn’t mind. He was a friend of my father’s and already knew what I could do. He also knew when to keep his mouth shut. He was one of the few officers that the Chief trusted.
    “I’ll check it out right away,” he said to the Chief. “I need to go over the car too.”
    “Check the garbage can first.” I gestured at the receptacle by the bench.
    The Chief nodded at Bryce who carefully lifted the wooden lid with a gloved hand, not that it was likely that the old splintering wood had taken any fingerprints. Trash cans in the park were disguised as mini outhouses. Why this was considered aesthetically better than a regular trash can I don’t know, but it was what the town council had decided.
    For bad moment I thought we had another body on our hands but a second glance proved the unnerving sight to be a sunhat, wig and sunglasses. Bryce began bagging the items. I resisted the urge to tell him to check the wig for hair fibers. The lab would do that of course.
    “The timing sucks,” Bryce muttered. “And I’m going to miss breakfast.”
    Yes, it sucked. Another guest of the Morningside Inn murdered. Did guide books have a rating for that? It was a cinch that the chamber of commerce would never mention it, but still word would probably get around. That wasn’t good. Hope Falls relied on tourism and we were approaching one of our biggest weekends. What if