The Lady Who Sang High: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 7) by Renee Pawlish Page A

worked on the soil, performing some tests and adding nutrients, and sent me to get the broom to sweep up. When I came back, she was kneeling in front of one of the plants and…she was singing.
    I watched her for a minute. She was oblivious to my presence. “Are you high?” I finally asked.
    She blushed. “I took one hit before I came downstairs.”
    I threw the broom down. “That’s it, I’m finished.”
    “No, wait! I’m sorry.” She scrambled to her feet. “I’m fine, okay? It’s no big deal.”
    I lost my temper. “Whatever’s going on here, these people mean business,” I snarled. “You’ve got to stay sharp. Don’t you want to find Jude’s killer?”
    “I do. I will. I promise,” she said in quick succession.
    I looked at her. And I believed her. Or maybe I was too woozy to know for sure.
    She picked up the broom. “I’ll finish here. You go home.”
    “No way.” I took the broom back. “If someone attacked me, they might come after you. I’ll wait until you’re ready to go, and I’ll walk you to your car. Then I’m going to check the shed at Jude’s house.”
    She shivered. Fear flitted across her face, then a somber expression settled in as the weight of everything bore down on her. She was suddenly sober. “Okay,” she said without a fight. “But I’m going with you to Jude’s. You can’t be sneaking around there at night. Someone could call the cops.”
    Good point.
    We finished cleaning up, made sure the back door was locked, even though I knew it was, and left through the store. The last thing Jodie did was set the alarm, located in the hallway near the stairs. I walked her to her car, then she drove me to mine and I followed her to Jude’s house.
    The house was dark when we parked in the driveway.
    “I still can’t believe he’s gone,” she said as she unlocked the front door.
    It was cool inside, the air conditioner running quietly. Otherwise, there was deathly stillness.
    She looked around forlornly. “At some point, I’m going to have to take care of all this.”
    My head was beginning to pound, and I’m ashamed to say I wasn’t as sympathetic as I should’ve been. “Your friend from Pueblo can help, right?”
    She nodded.
    I nudged her toward the kitchen. “Let’s take a look in the shed.”
    I really wanted to see what was so important in that shed that Jude had hidden the key and that someone had stolen it from me. Then I wanted to go home, take some aspirin, and sleep off my headache.
    She flipped on lights as we made our way through the house.
    “Is there a flashlight?” I asked.
    She shrugged, so we searched the drawers in the kitchen.
    “Here’s one.” She pulled a long black flashlight from a drawer full of tools, paper and other junk.
    “How are we going to get in without the key?”
    “Oh, right.” She stared at me blankly. “I don’t know.”
    “Is there a sledgehammer somewhere?”
    “Why?”
    “I’m going to break the lock.”
    “You can’t do that.”
    “Do you have a better idea?” I asked.
    She didn’t respond and I headed for the garage. I couldn’t find a sledgehammer, but I did find an axe, so I grabbed it, trudged back through the kitchen and into the yard.
    “You can’t chop through the door,” she said, trotting to keep up with me.
    “I’m not going in like Paul Bunyan. I’m going to use the blunt side as a hammer.”
    “Be quiet, okay?” Jodie said in a hushed tone as we crossed the yard. “I don’t want the neighbors calling the police because you’re making a racket breaking down the door.”
    Turns out I didn’t need to make any noise. As I neared the shed, I noticed the door stood slightly ajar. I stopped abruptly and she slammed into me.
    “Hey!”
    “Sh.” I put up a hand to stop her.
    She looked over my shoulder. “They were here!” she hissed.
    I nodded, listening. No sound came from inside the shed, so I stepped forward, brandishing the flashlight in one hand, the axe in the other. What a sight