Death in the Secret Garden Read Online Free Page A

neighborhood bar that occupied the ground floor of a clapboard house. It was set back from a secondary highway by a small parking lot. Sarge Renfroe, the retired army master-sergeant owner, had living quarters on the second floor. The bar room had wide plank flooring, a massive wooden bar with a brass footrail and faded red stools. A half-dozen booths lined the walls of the remainder of the space. Large jars of pickled eggs bracketed each end of the worn bar, while the wall decor consisted of several beer company posters. Sarge Renfroe occasionally swiped the worn wood with a dubious-looking bar rag and cooked fat hamburgers on the grill.
    At noon a dozen men lined the bar for hamburgers washed down with draft beer. Jamie Martin, his police uniform replaced by chino pants and a checkered sports shirt, drank a beer with a side shot of bar whiskey. He’d just finished his midnight-to-eight with three extra hours of overtime due to the girl’s murder in the state forest. Now it was catchup time.
    â€˜The chief says no way did Spook blow her away,’ Jamie announced authoritatively to his section of the bar.
    â€˜Spook’s not only out to lunch, he never made breakfast,’ Sarge mumbled as he flipped another burger on the grill. ‘He’s crazy enough to think that Boots was Viet Cong.’
    â€˜Well, maybe Chief Herbert just better look into who was jumping the kid’s bones,’ Jamie said.
    â€˜Yeah, does Rocco know about Eddy?’ Sarge asked as he slapped a burger into a roll and slipped it on a paper plate next to a large pickle and a handful of potato chips.
    â€˜I told him,’ Jamie said as he pushed his shot glass forward for a refill. ‘I figure that Eddy might have put a bun in Boots’ oven and now wanted to turn off the pilot light.’
    Sarge nodded and poured Jamie’s shot. He waved away payment. ‘That makes sense.’
    â€˜What are you talking about?’ A large meaty hand grasped Jamie’s shoulder and spun the police officer around on his stool. He faced an overweight, ruddy-faced man with wisps of dull red hair.
    â€˜Uh oh,’ Sarge mumbled as he reached under the bar for his baseball bat. ‘I didn’t see you come in, but you keep it calm now, Mr. Anderson. We want no trouble in here and Jamie is the law.’
    Anderson ignored the bar owner. ‘You talking about my kid, Boots? That who you talking about, brother?’
    â€˜Jesus Christ, Mr. Anderson, didn’t they tell you yet?’ Jamie said.
    â€˜Do not take the name of the Lord in vain. Tell me what?’
    â€˜About what happened to Boots.’
    â€˜You been saying in here that my daughter was breaking a commandment with Eddy. You mean Eddy Rashish of Rashish Motors?’
    â€˜Well, yes, sir. But there’s something you should know.’
    â€˜I don’t need to know nothing more, Jamie. Eddy has sinned once too often and the wrath of God shall punish him. I am His messenger and I shall call upon the avenging angels.’
    â€˜Sir, please listen to me. About your daughter …’
    â€˜I don’t want to hear anything more about Boots. I’ll deal with her tonight. Right now I’m going out to that cheap excuse of a used-car lot that Eddy runs to have a talk with the sinner.’
    The large man started for the door. Jamie Martin pushed off the bar stool and hurried after him. He put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. ‘Please, Mr. Anderson …’
    Anderson pushed Jamie back against the wall next to the door. ‘Listen to me, brother. I don’t care if you are a cop. Eddy’s going to get his. He’s fooled around for the last time.’
    â€˜About your daughter, she’s …’
    â€˜She’s what?’
    â€˜She’s dead, Mr. Anderson.’
    Lister Anderson was a man who thought with his hands. His sensitive fingers could run across an engine block and sense the miscue of bad