like it’s working to me.”
“Maybe they got it fixed since the murder.” She stepped back inside.
Mac followed her through the door. The room contained a fireplace and bar, behind which a mirror stretched across the rear wall. Unlike the stone floors in his home, the Singletons’ floors were hardwood. Since his first wife’s death, Chad Singleton had removed all the furnishings to put the house on the market.
The click-clack sound echoing throughout the empty room startled both of them. Ready to run when caught trespassing, they whirled around to the open door. His nose to the floor, Gnarly made a sweep of the room before coming to a stop near the bar. With his snout following the scent of his dead mistress, he circled the area before lying down with a whine.
“This is where she was killed.” Archie knelt next to the dog.
Doubtful, Mac compared the crime scene pictures to the placement of the patio doors and the floor next to the bar where Gnarly rested his head between his front paws.
It proved to be the spot.
Mac continued to examine the rest of the pictures in the folder while imagining how the murder happened.
“We can assume that there’s no evidence left since Chad had the place professionally cleaned,” Archie said.
“The first rule in investigating is to never assume anything,” he said. “If there’s nothing left, how did Gnarly lead us here by her scent? I thought he was outside when the murder happened.”
Archie went to the patio door. “Maybe he saw the murder through the door, which would have been locked. When he wasn’t able to get in to save her, Gnarly ambushed the killer when he left.”
Mac opened and shut the patio door. “Did Katrina give the pass code to anyone besides David? Her husband had to have had it. Who else could she have given it to?”
“David told me that Katrina changed the code after almost every incident,” she said.
“How did you get the pass code?”
“Hacking,” Archie confessed. “But if you go to the security company, they’ll have record of the alarm being deactivated just now when I punched in the code. The night of the murder, the security company claims the only break in the system was when she let Gnarly outside. There is no record of any break, deactivations, or trip in the system after that.”
Once again, Mac opened and closed the door while studying the lights on the panel for the security system. He glanced over his shoulder to where Gnarly marked the murder spot.
Referring to the pictures of Katrina’s dead body and the overturned recliner, he crossed the room. Mentally, he uprighted the recliner and stood where it would have been. Standing over the spot Gnarly marked for them, he shuffled through the photos until he came to one of Katrina’s body sprawled on the floor. “Okay, Archie, I want you to lie down here and play dead for me.”
“Why me?” she objected.
“Because you’re a girl. The murder victim was a woman. If it was a guy, I’d play dead but—” He stopped when he saw her pointing to where Gnarly was lying on his back with his paws up in the air.
“There,” she said. “Gnarly’s playing dead for us.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Mac told him.
The cell phone in her pocket interrupted Archie’s laughter. She whipped it out and pressed it to her ear.
“Hello.” Hearing laughter in her tone, she sucked in her breath. “Yes, this is Archie Monday.” She paused. “Yes, he’s here.” She held out the phone to him. “It’s Jeff Ingle. He wants to speak to Mickey Forsythe.”
“I’m not real,” Mac took the phone from her. “This is Mickey—I mean Mackey—I mean—How are you, Jeff?” He listened for a moment before saying, “No, I’m glad you called. I’ll be right there. His drinks are on the house. Try to get him to eat something.”
* * * *
The outdoor café seemed to be serving twice as many customers as it had the previous week when Mac made his first appearance
“Maybe they got it fixed since the murder.” She stepped back inside.
Mac followed her through the door. The room contained a fireplace and bar, behind which a mirror stretched across the rear wall. Unlike the stone floors in his home, the Singletons’ floors were hardwood. Since his first wife’s death, Chad Singleton had removed all the furnishings to put the house on the market.
The click-clack sound echoing throughout the empty room startled both of them. Ready to run when caught trespassing, they whirled around to the open door. His nose to the floor, Gnarly made a sweep of the room before coming to a stop near the bar. With his snout following the scent of his dead mistress, he circled the area before lying down with a whine.
“This is where she was killed.” Archie knelt next to the dog.
Doubtful, Mac compared the crime scene pictures to the placement of the patio doors and the floor next to the bar where Gnarly rested his head between his front paws.
It proved to be the spot.
Mac continued to examine the rest of the pictures in the folder while imagining how the murder happened.
“We can assume that there’s no evidence left since Chad had the place professionally cleaned,” Archie said.
“The first rule in investigating is to never assume anything,” he said. “If there’s nothing left, how did Gnarly lead us here by her scent? I thought he was outside when the murder happened.”
Archie went to the patio door. “Maybe he saw the murder through the door, which would have been locked. When he wasn’t able to get in to save her, Gnarly ambushed the killer when he left.”
Mac opened and shut the patio door. “Did Katrina give the pass code to anyone besides David? Her husband had to have had it. Who else could she have given it to?”
“David told me that Katrina changed the code after almost every incident,” she said.
“How did you get the pass code?”
“Hacking,” Archie confessed. “But if you go to the security company, they’ll have record of the alarm being deactivated just now when I punched in the code. The night of the murder, the security company claims the only break in the system was when she let Gnarly outside. There is no record of any break, deactivations, or trip in the system after that.”
Once again, Mac opened and closed the door while studying the lights on the panel for the security system. He glanced over his shoulder to where Gnarly marked the murder spot.
Referring to the pictures of Katrina’s dead body and the overturned recliner, he crossed the room. Mentally, he uprighted the recliner and stood where it would have been. Standing over the spot Gnarly marked for them, he shuffled through the photos until he came to one of Katrina’s body sprawled on the floor. “Okay, Archie, I want you to lie down here and play dead for me.”
“Why me?” she objected.
“Because you’re a girl. The murder victim was a woman. If it was a guy, I’d play dead but—” He stopped when he saw her pointing to where Gnarly was lying on his back with his paws up in the air.
“There,” she said. “Gnarly’s playing dead for us.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Mac told him.
The cell phone in her pocket interrupted Archie’s laughter. She whipped it out and pressed it to her ear.
“Hello.” Hearing laughter in her tone, she sucked in her breath. “Yes, this is Archie Monday.” She paused. “Yes, he’s here.” She held out the phone to him. “It’s Jeff Ingle. He wants to speak to Mickey Forsythe.”
“I’m not real,” Mac took the phone from her. “This is Mickey—I mean Mackey—I mean—How are you, Jeff?” He listened for a moment before saying, “No, I’m glad you called. I’ll be right there. His drinks are on the house. Try to get him to eat something.”
* * * *
The outdoor café seemed to be serving twice as many customers as it had the previous week when Mac made his first appearance
Similar Books
