The Lady Who Sang High: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 7) by Renee Pawlish Page B
Authors: Renee Pawlish
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that must’ve been.
“They didn’t wait long,” I murmured. Something important was in that shed.
I got within ten feet of the door, shone the light inside, and waited. After a minute, I was sure no one was lurking inside. I tiptoed up and kicked the door open wider, then waited for a reaction. Getting beaned on the head keeps you from taking more chances, at least in the same night.
“It’s clear,” I finally said, and I crept inside. I swept the flashlight around. “Does it normally look like this?”
“Not when I’ve been here,” she said from the doorway.
Someone had been here before us…and they’d left a mess.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jude had set up the shed as a lab. A long, rectangular table took up the entire back wall. A folding chair sat in front of it. A microscope, two small lamps, baby food jars filled with weed, a three-ring binder and fertilizers in small bottles were spread across it. In one corner, small plastic pots with marijuana in various growth stages sat near a small but powerful light. However, the bulb had been broken and pieces of it were scattered in the pots and on the wood floor. The plants had been upset, some toppled over, some pulled from the soil, and a few looked as if leaves had been torn off. A fan in the corner was on its side. A trash can next to the table had been emptied, paper and a couple of fast food wrappers strewn on the floor.
“I wonder if they found what they were looking for,” I said as I surveyed the mess.
Jodie moved around me, into the shadows, and started righting the plants.
I rolled my eyes. “Really?”
She knelt down and picked up one of the pots. “I just hate to see them die, especially if they’re needed for the experiments.”
I rubbed a hand over my face, willing away both the pounding in my head, and the temptation to kick the plants out the door. I let her mess with them, and I stepped up to the table, flipped open the binder and used the flashlight to read it. Sections had been marked: Growing stages, experiments, types of lighting and, if I remembered my high school chemistry, some formulas. The notebook fit with Jude’s personality – neat and orderly.
“Hey, I can’t see to take care of these plants,” she said.
“Tough.” I got to the back of the binder. Jude had scrawled on blank paper, his notes haphazard and unorganized. Here and there were lists, and doodles adorned every page. Some things were crossed out, other sections starred. It was like this was his thinking area, but none of it meant anything to me.
“Come here,” I said.
She actually left the plants and sidled up next to me. “What?”
“Have you seen this before?”
She took the notebook and turned to the front. “No.” She checked more pages. “I can tell this is some notes on the new process, but it’s not complete.” She studied it some more. “He sometimes brought in loose pages that he’d take into the lab at Blue Light. He must’ve been working on stuff here and then he compared notes to what Carlo and Pete were doing, and when he figured something out, he transferred that to the computer.”
“You don’t know if anything is missing?”
Her lips formed into a tight line. “Not a clue. But from what I can tell, nothing here is complete.”
“That may be why whoever broke in here didn’t take it. They knew it wouldn’t do any good.” And who would know that? Someone who knew what the notes meant. Ivy?
I thumbed through it again, noting the sections. “Hold on.” I looked more closely. “Look here, there’s a section missing.”
The binder sections were divided and labeled with those colored plastic tabs that run vertically down the right side of the notebook. If the tabs were all there, they should line up one above the other. But it was clear that a section in the middle was missing.
“Did Jude do that?” she asked.
“From what little I’ve seen, he’s meticulously organized,” I said. “I think someone took a
“They didn’t wait long,” I murmured. Something important was in that shed.
I got within ten feet of the door, shone the light inside, and waited. After a minute, I was sure no one was lurking inside. I tiptoed up and kicked the door open wider, then waited for a reaction. Getting beaned on the head keeps you from taking more chances, at least in the same night.
“It’s clear,” I finally said, and I crept inside. I swept the flashlight around. “Does it normally look like this?”
“Not when I’ve been here,” she said from the doorway.
Someone had been here before us…and they’d left a mess.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jude had set up the shed as a lab. A long, rectangular table took up the entire back wall. A folding chair sat in front of it. A microscope, two small lamps, baby food jars filled with weed, a three-ring binder and fertilizers in small bottles were spread across it. In one corner, small plastic pots with marijuana in various growth stages sat near a small but powerful light. However, the bulb had been broken and pieces of it were scattered in the pots and on the wood floor. The plants had been upset, some toppled over, some pulled from the soil, and a few looked as if leaves had been torn off. A fan in the corner was on its side. A trash can next to the table had been emptied, paper and a couple of fast food wrappers strewn on the floor.
“I wonder if they found what they were looking for,” I said as I surveyed the mess.
Jodie moved around me, into the shadows, and started righting the plants.
I rolled my eyes. “Really?”
She knelt down and picked up one of the pots. “I just hate to see them die, especially if they’re needed for the experiments.”
I rubbed a hand over my face, willing away both the pounding in my head, and the temptation to kick the plants out the door. I let her mess with them, and I stepped up to the table, flipped open the binder and used the flashlight to read it. Sections had been marked: Growing stages, experiments, types of lighting and, if I remembered my high school chemistry, some formulas. The notebook fit with Jude’s personality – neat and orderly.
“Hey, I can’t see to take care of these plants,” she said.
“Tough.” I got to the back of the binder. Jude had scrawled on blank paper, his notes haphazard and unorganized. Here and there were lists, and doodles adorned every page. Some things were crossed out, other sections starred. It was like this was his thinking area, but none of it meant anything to me.
“Come here,” I said.
She actually left the plants and sidled up next to me. “What?”
“Have you seen this before?”
She took the notebook and turned to the front. “No.” She checked more pages. “I can tell this is some notes on the new process, but it’s not complete.” She studied it some more. “He sometimes brought in loose pages that he’d take into the lab at Blue Light. He must’ve been working on stuff here and then he compared notes to what Carlo and Pete were doing, and when he figured something out, he transferred that to the computer.”
“You don’t know if anything is missing?”
Her lips formed into a tight line. “Not a clue. But from what I can tell, nothing here is complete.”
“That may be why whoever broke in here didn’t take it. They knew it wouldn’t do any good.” And who would know that? Someone who knew what the notes meant. Ivy?
I thumbed through it again, noting the sections. “Hold on.” I looked more closely. “Look here, there’s a section missing.”
The binder sections were divided and labeled with those colored plastic tabs that run vertically down the right side of the notebook. If the tabs were all there, they should line up one above the other. But it was clear that a section in the middle was missing.
“Did Jude do that?” she asked.
“From what little I’ve seen, he’s meticulously organized,” I said. “I think someone took a
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