The Body in the Landscape (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 5) Read Online Free Page B

up in Beverly Hills. What does he know?”
    “Beverly Hills? I thought he grew up in the hills of Kentucky. Or was it a West Virginia coal mine?” I squeezed my eyes shut to help pry facts from my memory. “I know, a Louisiana bayou.”
    “Songs,” Max spat. “His grandfather was lipstick tycoon and his mother was the actress.”
    “You are really bursting my bubble. I love Bob Bass.”
    “You love the idea of the Bob Bass. The real Bob Bass is Fortnum Robert Bassler the third. He hired the PR firm after his first album didn’t sell. They discovered the rural population enjoys his music. So they reinvented Bob Bass as the big hunter.”
    “How do you know this?”
    “I made it my business to know.”
    “What business?”
    “My own.”
    I recognized the defensive tone disguised as swagger. “Bob Bass plays poker in your secret casino, doesn’t he? You had him investigated. You better keep in mind, your friendly wager for the winning portrait might lose you a rich customer.”
    “I am spending much money on you this weekend, Artist. That does not include your advice.”
    “Very true,” I said quickly. “And even though you have destroyed the enjoyment I once had in Bob Bass’s music, I will do my best to flatter the rural interloper and get you through the weekend.”
    “Perhaps he will have you appear on the television show with the reality of himself.”
    “You mean his reality show,” I corrected. Max’s English sometimes disappeared between the Carpathians and the Appalachians.
    “It is too bad Bass’s filming of this weekend will portray his defeat.”
    I could imagine Max’s icy blue eyes gleaming with excitement. A mocking smile would flash across his normally stoic features.
    The man took to competition the way a cougar takes to a limping deer. I had a feeling this supposed “trash talk” was of the personal variety.
    “My people, we have the history of great hunters...”
    I switched off Max’s rattle about the prowess of Slavic sportsmen and waited for a pause to change the subject. “I have a funny feeling about Mr. Abel.”
    “Who is Mr. Abel? Is he also in the hunt? My last count was six contestants.”
    I took a deep breath to block the imag e of a body from my head. “Mr. Abel is the man I found in the creek.”
    “Ah.” Max paused. “I am sorry. Of course, you must be distressed over this tragedy. What is the funny feeling?”
    “I don’t know how to explain it,” I said. “But I don’t think Mr. Abel took a drunken spill into that ravine. For one thing, he would have gotten pretty damn hammered in a short amount of time, because when I met him earlier that night, he wasn’t drunk.”
    “It depends on the drink and the person’s condition.”
    I wasn’t easily dissuaded. “And another thing. His hat fell off on top of the ridge, but the body was in the creek, facing up. He fell backward. How does the hat fall forward if the body falls backward?”
    “What are you saying?”
    “According to Rookie Holt, Abel wasn’t liked by anyone.”
    “You suspect the foul play? You do have the habit of jumping the conclusions, Artist. A social misfit does not make the strong motive for murder.”
    “But I saw Mr. Abel’s face, Bear.” I fought back tears. “He looked scared. That also does not jive with the man I met earlier.”
    Max pulled in a breath. “Of course, if he fell...”
    “And Hogzilla didn’t scare him. The Big Rack’s outfitter said the giant hog was on a different part of the property. The rootings weren’t fresh enough.”
    “So the beast was spotted on property? Excellent.” Max caught himself with a cough. “I see. The police are investigating? You told them your concerns?”
    “Well, yes, I guess . ”
    “Then you have done your duty. Do not worry yourself needlessly. It is sad thing, of course, but there is nothing more you can do. I will see you soon.”
    “But I need to do something. The police act like they’re writing this off.” I