The Seacrest Read Online Free Page B

Creek? Seven o’clock?”
    “Seven’s great,” I whispered, almost driving off the track because I couldn’t stop staring at her.
    She carefully made her way to the back of the trolley.
    Jax guffawed. “I see how it is. Little Finn’s got a girlfriend. Oo-la-la.” He did a stupid hula dance and climbed back into the front. “Wait’ll I tell Mom and Dad.”
     “Shut up,” I said. “Just shut up.”
     

Chapter 7
    July 9, 2013
    Noon
     
    L ibby did drag me out of my cocoon of woe that day. I’d stumbled into the shower and let the warm water soothe my bruised soul. She’d done me a good turn, and I needed to thank her for it.
    After working outside all day—I’d mucked stalls, mowed the mansion grounds, and trimmed and fed all the roses in the garden—I realized how hungry I was. Those dried-out noodle casseroles just didn’t do it for me, so I headed to the local market in my noisy Jeep, eliciting stares from tourists and hoping Police Chief Kramer or Deputy Lowell didn’t catch me. I’d been warned about the muffler twice now, but I still didn’t have the cash to fix it.
    Food came first.
    Cars second. Long as they got you where you were going.
    Right?
    I jumped out of the Jeep and lunged for a rogue grocery cart that rolled toward me, threatening to add another dent to my vehicle.
    “Whoa! Good catch, Finn.”
    I turned to see Doc Fillmore, who I’d always known as Stinker from elementary school. The man had the ability to clear a room when he was in sixth grade.
    “Hey, Stinker.”
    He stood behind his Land Rover, loading a mountain of groceries into the back. The man had eight kids, all growing fast.
    He came around to shake my hand. “Nice day, huh?”
    A brilliant coroner, yes. Conversation? Not his forté.
    “Yeah. It’s a nice one.”
    I thought that would be it. Usually we didn’t talk a lot, except maybe when I asked about his family or he mentioned The Seacrest or Libby’s horses. He had a mad passion for horses and often followed us around to her dressage events.
    “Er, Finn. I wanted to say…” His face turned reddish. “I mean…”
    “Thanks, Stink.” I figured he was trying to say he was sorry for my losses.
    He cleared his throat. “I am sorry about your wife and brother. But I wanted to say I’m also really sorry about the child.”
    That stopped me in my tracks. I pushed the cart against my Jeep so it wouldn’t roll down the incline, and took a few steps toward him. “What?”
    He shuffled his feet, then summoned his professional demeanor. Straightening, he locked eyes with me. “As I’m sure you know, Cora was about four months pregnant. I’m really sorry.”
    The blood drained from my face and I swayed. Catching myself, I leaned over the hood of the Jeep.
    “Finn?” He hurried to my side. “Finn? I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
    I shook my head. I couldn’t get the words out.
    He looked really flustered now. “Oh, man. I’m really sorry. I assumed…”
    I found my center and straightened. “No. It’s okay. I just…it was just a shock.”
    His eyes continued to register deep surprise. “She didn’t tell you?”
    I breathed deeply and exhaled. “No.”
    He looked sorry for me then, and I hated that. “Er…she might’ve wanted to surprise me. On our anniversary. It’s coming up in a few days.” I choked back the emotion and swiped perspiration from my brow. “That’s probably it.”
    I wondered again. Jax? What in God’s name were you doing with my wife?
    Stinker finished loading his bags into the car and lowered the door. “Aw, poop. I didn’t mean to throw you a curve, Finn. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay.” I was going to turn away, but thought I’d ask if there were any more surprises discovered on the autopsy table. “Did you find anything else? What about my brother?”
    “Nothing surprising. Death by head trauma. Neither one drowned, thank goodness. They were dead before they reached the water.” He frowned. “I probably