Mesozoic Murder Read Online Free Page B

the director of the Big Toe Natural History Museum. He hired Nick to design the plant displays surrounding some dinosaur models. Nick wanted to include some ideas in the dioramas Cameron didn’t like. They argued, and Nick walked off the project. The delay cost a lot of extra time and money.”
    â€œWhen did this happen?”
    â€œJune of last year.”
    â€œWho else did Capos have a problem with?”
    â€œI don’t know. He rarely discussed his problems with me.”
    â€œAnd his wife’s name is Karen?”
    Karen. She hadn’t thought much about her. What would she do now that Nick was dead? “That’s right.”
    â€œHow did he get along with her?”
    â€œNot well. Nick left Karen about six months ago. He moved to Wolf Point.”
    â€œCapos’ license says his home is in Glasgow. Is that where Karen still lives?”
    Ansel suddenly felt a million miles away from the tiny kitchen. Talking about Nick made the reality of what happened begin to sink in. She wouldn’t see him again. She’d never see his boyish, lopsided smile or hear him say her name. They would never again discuss the latest fossil finds or go hiking together. Damn it. Some monster worse than any prehistoric nightmare she could imagine had killed Nick. Ansel felt a deep, dark rage building inside her. Whoever killed Nick deserved to pay.
    â€œMiss Phoenix?”
    Ansel jerked to attention. “Yes?”
    â€œDoes his wife live in Glasgow?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDo you know Capos’ Wolf Point address?”
    â€œNo. I’ve never been there.”
    Dorbandt pursed his lips before speaking again. “All right. I need you to give me a list with the names, addresses, and phone numbers of the society members as soon as possible.”
    â€œSure. Give me your email address.”
    â€œMy card.” Dorbandt pulled a white rectangle from his notebook and pushed it across the table. “If you think of anything important regarding Capos, call me.”
    â€œI will.” Her head was coming off at the shoulders. She really needed to eat something.
    â€œI’ll write up your statement and have you sign it. Then we’ll get your fingerprints.”
    Ansel swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why?”
    â€œBecause you picked up those glasses. I want you to understand that this is an active homicide investigation. You are not to discuss anything you’ve seen or heard. Is that clear?” He fixed her with a stern gaze.
    â€œYes,” Ansel replied, feeling swept helplessly along in a procedural eddy.
    Dorbandt shut his notebook and pulled a white paper from a file folder on the table. He took several minutes quietly writing before looking up. “Please read this and make sure everything is correct. If you agree with it, sign at the bottom.” He slid the paper toward her.
    Ansel took the form and looked it over. It was riddled with police jargon. She signed anyway and pushed the sheet back.
    The detective scribbled his name below hers. “Thank you.” He got up and walked to the kitchen doorway. “Odie, I need you to get some prints from Miss Phoenix.”
    As Dorbandt withdrew into the kitchen, a huge, suited detective appeared. “Come this way, please.”
    He led Ansel through the living room. She passed Feltus Pitt and nodded a quick farewell in his direction. Feltus didn’t look happy as he sat on a swayback sofa drinking a can of orange soda, his eyes as wide as a swine in a slaughterhouse. She felt awful for the pig farmer. What a horrible thing to happen on his property. There went the society’s fossil hunting privileges.
    After her fingerprints were taken, Ansel departed through the front door. She walked across the rickety farmhouse porch and down the wooden steps feeling shell-shocked. Only the smell and sound of thousands of keening pigs pierced her dazed senses. The odor didn’t seem to affect anyone