A Flight of Fantasy (Sarah Woods Mystery 12) by Jennifer L. Jennings Read Free Book Online Page A

said. “I have it covered.”
    “Shit. I hope Rita doesn’t have a dog. Last thing I need is another trip to the emergency room for stitches.”
    “At least you already got the tetanus shot.”
    I chuckled. “I love how you always see the positive side of things.”
    Carter leaned over to caress my face. “Be careful, okay?”
    “I always am.”
     
    When I exited the Buick, I casually strolled across the street like I lived in the neighborhood. I went right up to Reece’s front door and pretended to look for a key in my purse, but what I was really doing was trying to find the right sized lock pick. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carter approach the neighbor’s house. He was wearing a dark blue jacket with a name embroidered on the front. I could only imagine he was impersonating a utility worker of some kind.
    Miraculously, I got inside Rita’s house without much fuss. I had become quite adept at breaking and entering, without having to break a thing. And my heart slowed down once I realized there were no attack dogs coming for me. I slipped on my plastic gloves and went to work.
    The place was neat and tidy and smelled like lemon cleaning agents. Reece was a good housekeeper.
    There were three bedrooms. A master with a queen sized bed that I assumed was Reece’s. A smaller room with a pink bedspread and dolls that must be her daughter’s room, and another small room that served as an office.
    A laptop computer sat atop a small desk that appeared extremely organized. Even the pens were arranged neatly alongside a stack of printer paper. A framed photo of her daughter was the only personal item on the desk. Adjacent to the desk was a filing cabinet which opened freely when I pulled on the handle. Inside were folders containing utility bills, mortgage information, car registrations, insurances, credit card bills and other important documents.
    I noticed that Rita had accrued quite a lot of credit card debt. With half a dozen cards, she must have owed at least thirty-five grand. No wonder she had to sell her body to strangers. Couldn’t afford to pay the minimum monthly payments on a guidance counselor’s paycheck. Curiously, the accounts still had her ex-husband’s name on them.
    There was nothing to suggest that Rita had been stealing identities. In fact, I could find nothing on Wayne Miller whatsoever. Not even a phone number or an address. If she had stolen his information, where was she keeping it?
    I booted up the laptop but I didn’t have any luck getting beyond the initial screen. I tried typing in a few passwords, like her daughter’s name, but nothing worked. After the third try I gave up and turned the thing off.
    I surmised that Rita must have been hiding her crimes. She wouldn’t keep the evidence in plain sight. She’d probably keep them in a spot that nobody would think to look.
    I went back into her daughter’s bedroom and searched through all the drawers, under the bed and in the closet. I hated myself for doing it. Rummaging through this little girl’s things seemed so wrong on every level. It wasn’t her fault that her mother was most likely a clever liar and thief.
    I could tell that Rita was a doting mother. Her daughter had everything a little girl could desire. Much care had been taken to decorate the room. Alongside the far wall, a hand painted mural of unicorns and fairies and rainbows. The bed looked like it came out of a Cinderella storybook. A whole chest contained dolls and elaborate dress-up costumes. The bookshelf must have contained at least a hundred volumes, mostly classics like Little Women and Treasure Island but also more recent popular stories like Harry Potter and Diary of a Wimpy Kid. There was no T.V or computer in the room, which I found interesting. Did she not allow her daughter to watch T.V?
    I had to snap out of this reverie and get back to work.
    I left the room exactly as I’d found it and went into Rita’s bedroom to do the same search. In the closet