Beneath a Buried House (Detective Elliot Mystery Book 2) by Bob Avey Read Free Book Online Page A

remained flat, expressionless, as if his emotions had been drained from him. He raised the file he’d been holding and held it out, in front of Elliot. “Well, I guess it’s your lucky day. John Doe is your problem now. I’m turning it over to you.”
    Elliot felt his face flush. Conley had tried to warn him. “Turning it over to me? Why?”
    “Captain Lundsford’s been asking me about it. I’ve been watching you. You pay attention to detail. I like that. The Captain and I both agree it’s time you started handling your own cases.” He paused to grin. “This’ll be a good one for you to start on. It’s different, a little offbeat.”
    “So you think I’m offbeat?”
    “I didn’t say that. But being a little unorthodox might not be such a bad thing, in small doses.”
    Dombrowski paused to sip his coffee then continued. “Let me give you some solid advice. Good detectives solve crimes by using scientific methods, gathering hard evidence.”
    He paused and lit a cigar, blowing the smoke into the air. “Start with Conley. Find out what he knows about the computer techs that were in the area. Maybe they saw something. After that, see if you can find anything on the long-haired man that came out of the apartment building just as we arrived. And”—he flicked ash from the cigar into an ashtray on his desk—“if it’s not too much trouble, try to keep it off the news.”
    Elliot walked out of Dombrowski’s office with a newfound respect for the man. He decided to set aside his suspicions about the strange symbol for the time being and follow the more experienced man’s advice. On the way back to his desk, Elliot stopped by the break room. Detective Cunningham was there, stirring something in a cup, some kind of instant cereal. Elliot stopped beside him. “Morning, Cunningham.”
    “Hey.”
    Elliot got a Styrofoam cup, filled it with ice, then added water. “I’m sorry about last night. I was acting like a jerk.”
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    Cunningham’s nonchalance was unconvincing. He was more upset than he was letting on. Elliot pretended to examine the cup he was holding. “I feel bad about it.”
    “Well, you really don’t get out much, do you? Probably not used to seeing lovely ladies?”
    Elliot frowned. “That’d be funny if it wasn’t so true.”
    That got a laugh out of Cunningham. He left the break room and started toward his office. Elliot followed. Once there, Cunningham sat in his chair then took a bite of the cereal. “I’ll tell you this,” he said. “If it’d been a little more one-sided, I wouldn’t have gotten so miffed.” He paused then shook his head. “She was checking you out, too. Do you know each other?”
    Elliot recalled that same thought going through his mind earlier. “No. Not that I’m aware of.” He immediately realized no man in his right mind would forget someone like Cyndi. “Well, anyway, I’m sorry.” He turned to leave. “I’ll see you around, okay?”
    “Not if I see you first.”
    Elliot walked away, wondering about Cunningham’s last statement. It was a common enough thing to say, but he’d never heard Cunningham say it. When he reached his office, Elliot called Sergeant Conley and asked him to meet him for coffee so they could talk about possible witnesses at Windhall.
    Less than an hour later, Elliot talked with Stella Martin, his only witness at the apartment building where the incident occurred.
    The trip hadn’t been wasted. Stella described the woman who had been with the John Doe in such detail that a sketch artist could easily work up a drawing.
    Elliot’s luck didn’t stop there. When he pulled onto the roadway, leaving the parking lot, he saw the man with the dirty blond hair, the same one that’d come out of the apartment building when he and Dombrowski were there, investigating. Patches of ice dotted the sidewalk, but the man maneuvered past the other pedestrians, weaving around them with a practiced skill, his eyes