MELODY and MURDER (Melody The Librarian Book 1) by Leslie Leigh Page B
Authors: Leslie Leigh
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this.” I grabbed my phone and speed-dialed his number. He didn’t pick up, so I thought I’d better leave a message.
“Michael, this is Melody. I just saw a ‘breaking news’ report on TV that said Chief Benson may have solved the Jacob Miller case. He has a suspect in custody. I would have hoped he’d have kept you in the loop, but just in case, I thought you should know. Congratulations,” I teased. “It looks like the blind pig struck gold, or whatever. Bye.”
I looked over at Mom, still staring intently at the TV screen. I removed the remote from her hand and turned the TV off.
“Alright, Mom, spill. What all do you know about this case?”
A smug smile lit her face. “Now, don’t get all indignant with me, Missy. You were holding back info from me, too, it turns out.”
“Michael made me take a vow of silence!” I protested.
“As did I,” she countered, with a sanctimonious countenance. “But to answer your question, when he called and asked my opinion about the people on this list of his. Well, he didn’t say too much, but he admitted it was part of his investigation, and the names were people who might have – through carelessness or malice – poisoned that Jacob Miller.”
“So what did you tell him? Who did you finger for it?” I was aware that my phrasing sounded like something from a 1940s B-movie.
“All of them!” she exclaimed. “Except for me, of course. Seriously, from what I know, any one of those people could be mean enough or stupid enough to leave poison out where someone hungry enough might help himself to it.” She paused. “Who would you put your money on, if we were betting?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted. “I guess we’ll just have to tune in Monday to find out Chief Benson’s theory.”
“Chief Benson,” she scoffed. “That man would be lucky to find his shoes in the morning, let alone catch a killer.”
At last, Mother and I could agree on something.
Chapter 17
On Monday, I was at work while the Chief’s suspect was being arraigned in Crawford. Michael was attending the hearing. He’d called Sunday to tell us that he was completely blindsided by the Chief’s statement, and he’d been unable to reach the Chief to get more information. (Apparently, the after-hours emergency number can be quite arbitrary regarding who gets through to the Chief.) Michael promised to update me once he’d had a chance to review the Chief’s case file and interview the suspect. Mom and I promised each other that we’d share any information either of us might receive.
At 3:00, Michael called. He was on his way home and had me on speakerphone.
“What a day,” he sighed. “Well, where would you like me to start?”
“What happened at the hearing?” I asked. He sounded exhausted, or as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
“Ah, yes, the hearing; well, the accused is a guy named Lester Moore. Poor guy didn’t know where he was or why. Fortunately, his court-appointed attorney entered a motion to have a competency hearing. Finding out whether or not he has his mental faculties will probably be the only clear-cut aspect of this fiasco.
“The crux of the Chief’s case is based on the testimony of one Thaddeus Slip, aka Thad Hand, aka Chad the Hammer, and on and on. I ran his name in the system and it nearly blew our server. He has a diverse portfolio, including manufacture of methamphetamine, drug possession and dealing, armed robbery, etcetera. This upstanding citizen, with no fixed address at the moment, claims that Lester Moore admitted to him that he ground up poison and served it up to Jacob Miller. That is the Chief’s case in its entirety.
“But here…let’s have Thaddeus Slip explain, in his own words, why he felt it was his civic duty to come forward and sic the dogs on Lester.”
Between the engine and road noise, and the peculiar acoustic properties of Michael’s sedan, the distorted, mechanically reproduced voice of the accuser was
“Michael, this is Melody. I just saw a ‘breaking news’ report on TV that said Chief Benson may have solved the Jacob Miller case. He has a suspect in custody. I would have hoped he’d have kept you in the loop, but just in case, I thought you should know. Congratulations,” I teased. “It looks like the blind pig struck gold, or whatever. Bye.”
I looked over at Mom, still staring intently at the TV screen. I removed the remote from her hand and turned the TV off.
“Alright, Mom, spill. What all do you know about this case?”
A smug smile lit her face. “Now, don’t get all indignant with me, Missy. You were holding back info from me, too, it turns out.”
“Michael made me take a vow of silence!” I protested.
“As did I,” she countered, with a sanctimonious countenance. “But to answer your question, when he called and asked my opinion about the people on this list of his. Well, he didn’t say too much, but he admitted it was part of his investigation, and the names were people who might have – through carelessness or malice – poisoned that Jacob Miller.”
“So what did you tell him? Who did you finger for it?” I was aware that my phrasing sounded like something from a 1940s B-movie.
“All of them!” she exclaimed. “Except for me, of course. Seriously, from what I know, any one of those people could be mean enough or stupid enough to leave poison out where someone hungry enough might help himself to it.” She paused. “Who would you put your money on, if we were betting?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted. “I guess we’ll just have to tune in Monday to find out Chief Benson’s theory.”
“Chief Benson,” she scoffed. “That man would be lucky to find his shoes in the morning, let alone catch a killer.”
At last, Mother and I could agree on something.
Chapter 17
On Monday, I was at work while the Chief’s suspect was being arraigned in Crawford. Michael was attending the hearing. He’d called Sunday to tell us that he was completely blindsided by the Chief’s statement, and he’d been unable to reach the Chief to get more information. (Apparently, the after-hours emergency number can be quite arbitrary regarding who gets through to the Chief.) Michael promised to update me once he’d had a chance to review the Chief’s case file and interview the suspect. Mom and I promised each other that we’d share any information either of us might receive.
At 3:00, Michael called. He was on his way home and had me on speakerphone.
“What a day,” he sighed. “Well, where would you like me to start?”
“What happened at the hearing?” I asked. He sounded exhausted, or as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
“Ah, yes, the hearing; well, the accused is a guy named Lester Moore. Poor guy didn’t know where he was or why. Fortunately, his court-appointed attorney entered a motion to have a competency hearing. Finding out whether or not he has his mental faculties will probably be the only clear-cut aspect of this fiasco.
“The crux of the Chief’s case is based on the testimony of one Thaddeus Slip, aka Thad Hand, aka Chad the Hammer, and on and on. I ran his name in the system and it nearly blew our server. He has a diverse portfolio, including manufacture of methamphetamine, drug possession and dealing, armed robbery, etcetera. This upstanding citizen, with no fixed address at the moment, claims that Lester Moore admitted to him that he ground up poison and served it up to Jacob Miller. That is the Chief’s case in its entirety.
“But here…let’s have Thaddeus Slip explain, in his own words, why he felt it was his civic duty to come forward and sic the dogs on Lester.”
Between the engine and road noise, and the peculiar acoustic properties of Michael’s sedan, the distorted, mechanically reproduced voice of the accuser was
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