Rough Rider

“Of course. I’m just glad you found your brooch.” C.J. turned and headed for the van.

Boone wanted to point out what a waste of time that had been, but one look at her face when she climbed behind the wheel and he bit his tongue. “When is the funeral?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.” She started the van, biting at her lower lip as if to stanch the tears that brimmed in her eyes.

As she pulled out on the street, he saw her glance in the rearview mirror and then make a quick turn down a side street. “So do we check on these other two cases?” he asked picking up the file folders.

“I already called Fred Hanson this morning. Hank got the neighbor to admit he did it and pay restitution.”

Boone couldn’t help being impressed. Who had this Hank Knight been to have such a devoted following, including C.J. herself?

“I also drove by the Turner house earlier this morning.”

“The cheating husband case,” he said.

“The husband’s clothing was in the yard.”

“Another case solved by Hank Knight. So are you ready to accept that he might have been involved in my family’s case?”

She said nothing. On Mercury Street, she stopped in front of a large redbrick building and, cutting the engine, climbed out.

“The Dumas Brothel?” he asked, seeing the visitor sign in the window as he hurried after her.

“One of Hank’s best friends works here,” she said as she opened the door and stepped in.

He followed, wondering if she wasn’t leading him on a wild-goose chase this morning, hoping he’d give up and leave town.

It was cool and dimly lit inside the brothel museum. The older woman who appeared took one look at C.J. and disappeared into the back. Surely C.J. didn’t plan on taking him on a tour.

But before he could ask, she turned and went to the front window. He could see her pain just below the surface and reminded himself that her partner had been killed only days ago. He didn’t kid himself when it came to her priorities. She was looking for Hank’s murderer—not Jesse Rose.

But if he was right, then it would lead them to the same place.

As he studied her, he couldn’t help but wonder what she would do when she found the murderer.

An elderly man came into the room and C.J. turned and said, “Can we go out the back?”

Without a word, the man led them through the building and the next thing Boone knew, he was standing in a narrow alley surrounded by tall old brick buildings.

“What was that all about?” he demanded. He had expected her to at least ask the man about her partner or his death.

“Someone’s following us,” she said as she led him into another building, this one apparently abandoned. A few moments later, they spilled out into a dark narrow alley. “This way.”

Boone followed her through the alley between two towering old brick buildings before she dropped down some short stairs and ducked into a doorway. He stopped to look back and saw no one.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.