Nowhere To Run by Carolyn Davidson Read Free Book Online

breathing while she watched a lone cormorant dive underwater in pursuit of fish.
    “Yup, and I don’t know if it’s a factor or not, but your girl had a pregnancy – looks like early termination.”
    “How long ago would you put the pregnancy?” Susan asked quickly as the cormorant resurfaced, lunch secured in its beak.
    “Approximately three years. No complications, looks like she went the medical route. Why don’t you stop by my place, I’ll show you what I’ve got.”
    Susan turned away from the water. “Alright George, be there in twenty.”
    “George,” she caught him before he disconnected. “Was there any jewellery on the vic’s body? A necklace maybe?”
    George grunted and she heard him flipping through the papers in front of him.
    “Nope,” came the answer, “no jewellery, no necklace.”
    Stepping into her SUV Susan lowered the car windows to let the fresh air in and drove west to the Aldershot’s home. Fields stretched out on either side of the road, many still green from a wet end to summer. Hay bales stood in tidy rounds, cows in sprawling herds peaceful with the assumption that food was plentiful and shelter provided.
    Thank goodness for cruise control, Susan told herself, eyeing the speedometer’s point, stationary at ten kilometers above the speed limit. Relaxing momentarily into the comfortable hum of wheels fast on pavement, Aldershot’s driveway appeared too quickly. With a sigh, she parked next to the pickup and approached the door.
    “Alright, Susan?” George held the screen door open. “Come on in. I put on the kettle, figured you’d need a break.”
    Susan sat at the kitchen table while Aldershot busied himself putting teabags in mugs and milk and sugar on the table.
    “Like some toast? Or I could fix you a sandwich?” he leaned back against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil.
    “Nah,” Susan waved the offer away. “Thanks but I want to keep moving, lots to get to.”
    “Yup, it’s a wild time when something like this happens,” George poured boiled water over the teabags. “We’ve had a few big ones in my day, more than one case that had us on our toes.”
    Aldershot joined Susan at the table, setting a steaming mug in front of her.
    “Not that you ever want something like this to happen, but it’s good to be occupied,” he gestured to the kitchen’s disarray, to the window over the sink looking out onto acres of trees. “It’s pretty quiet without Joyce around anymore.”
    “It must be hard,” Susan replied, “It hasn’t been long yet.”
    That’s right, she thought to herself, looking around the room. George’s wife had passed away less than half a year ago. In fact the kitchen was downright dirty, Susan noticed now. The counters were covered with crumbs and the grease on the stovetop looked like it hadn’t been touched in months. She was no Betty Crocker herself as far as that went, but there was nothing wrong with running a damp cloth over the surfaces or an occasional broom on the floor. Susan tried to contain a shudder.
    “The evenings do drag a bit,” George continued. “You’re on your own yourself down there aren’t you?” He cleared his throat loudly, pushing his finger through the crumbs on a plate with what looked like breakfast’s remains. “Could always stop by for an evening game of cards, dinner even. I’m not the best cook but I can put together a pretty good pasta.” George kept his eyes on the plate.
    Good lord, Susan gritted her teeth mentally, this wasn’t a social call.
    “Not much for cards, George,” she replied. “Thanks for the tea though. Now show me what you got, where’s the report?”
    Five minutes later Susan left Aldershot’s house shaking her head in disgust. Nothing that couldn’t have been said on the phone, in fact nothing that hadn’t already been said on the phone. She was all for helping a friend; she’d attended Joyce’s funeral, urged George to take some time off to recuperate. But this