A Murder In Passing by Mark de Castrique Read Free Book Online

door and that something had once been a living, breathing human being who wound up entombed in a hollow log. If we got involved in the case, it would have to be with eyes wide open that our client sought us out for reasons yet to be revealed. Those reasons could be to keep something hidden rather than bring it to light.
    I leaned back in the leather chair. “Interesting, disingenuous, deceitful. Pick a word.”
    Nakayla slipped her shoes off and sat on the sofa with her bare feet tucked under her. “You want to walk away?”
    â€œNot until I know what I’m walking away from.”
    â€œI think it’s about the rifle.”
    â€œI agree. I think if we hadn’t asked what else was stolen, she would have worked it in. But the way it played, she mentioned it in response to a question.”
    â€œWhy mention it at all?”
    I thought for a moment. “She’s setting the stage for something yet to happen. Another shoe’s going to drop.”
    â€œThe skeleton’s got to be her father and she’s protecting her mother.”
    â€œThat’s my guess. Get the rifle out of the house before the date of death.”
    Nakayla frowned. “Why not get the body out of the log? Bury it in those woods? There were probably root cellars left from the Kingdom. Dig a hole at the bottom of one of them and no one would ever find it.”
    â€œAnd why fabricate such an elaborate story about this Doris Ulmann and Julia Peterkin? The best lie is the simplest lie.”
    â€œMaybe it was the simplest lie,” Nakayla said. “Marsha had to have a reason to resurrect a forty-five-year-old burglary. She’s right about the value of those photographs increasing.”
    I looked past Nakayla to the door our visitor had exited. “So, you believe her?”
    â€œI believe she’s in trouble. Or thinks she is.”
    I nodded. “I agree. I’m prone to accept her as a client.”
    â€œYou sure?”
    â€œWhat else are we going to do? The phone’s not exactly ringing off the hook.”
    â€œYou’re right. And we know it’s not forwarded.”
    â€œSmartass.” I stood. “You can start checking into Marsha Montgomery’s background. Find out what’s fact and what’s fiction. Meanwhile, we’ll hold off deciding to take the case until I get back.”
    â€œWhere are you going?”
    â€œTo surprise Lucille Montgomery. Let’s see how well the mother’s story corroborates the daughter’s.”
    ***
    I drove up to the unmanned guardhouse and stopped just short of the red and white crossbar. The entry to the Golden Oaks Retirement Center had been strategically installed at the base of a mountain in Arden, a small town about ten miles outside of Asheville. It was better to turn a car away there before it had to negotiate the winding switchbacks to the summit. Golden Oaks brought senior citizens closer to heaven in more ways than one.
    I rolled down my window and pushed a silver button beside a speaker in the guardhouse wall.
    â€œWelcome to Golden Oaks. How can I help you?” The woman’s voice was friendly but officious.
    â€œI’m here to see Ron Kline.”
    â€œIs Mr. Kline expecting you?”
    â€œTell the Captain that Sam Blackman is on his trail.”
    The woman laughed. “Sam, why didn’t you say so?”
    The crossbar rose.
    â€œCome on up. Do you want me to warn him? He’s with his bevy of beauties.”
    â€œNo. Better not disturb a sultan when he’s with his harem.”
    She laughed again. “You think you’re joking? You’ll find him in the TV room.”
    Ron Kline, aka Captain, had to be in his late eighties or early nineties. Nakayla and I met him during the course of our first case when circumstances led us to one of the residents of Golden Oaks. Captain had actually risen to the rank of Colonel, and as a former Chief Warrant Officer myself, we