Caught Dead Handed by Carol J. Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

though he’d lost his train of thought.
    Scott Palmer nodded and spoke quickly. “Yes, indeed. What happened after you saw the raincoat?”
    â€œOh, yeah. I pick it up, you know, and it feels kinda heavy, like there was something wrapped up in it. Well, sir, I unwrap it, and it’s got one of them old-fashioned razors in it.”
    â€œA razor?”
    â€œYep. One of them old kind that flips out, like a switchblade knife.”
    â€œA straight razor.”
    â€œRight. And it’s all wrapped up nice and neat in that raincoat. But it’s a good thing I wear gloves when I’m looking for cans.”
    â€œWhy is that?” Scott Palmer asked.
    â€œThe durned thing had blood on it. I don’t like blood.”
    â€œSo, did you just leave it there?”
    â€œCourse not. I figure the thing has to be worth something, even if some danged fool cut hisself shavin’ with it. I tossed it in my shopping cart, along with the cans and stuff.”
    â€œI see.” The reporter looked into the camera and then back toward the old man. “So when did you tell the police about it?”
    â€œSoon’s I heard about that lady getting herself killed over here. They was glad I kept my gloves on. Case there’s some fingerprints on the thing.”
    â€œThanks, Mr. Henry.” Scott stepped away from the trash-strewn area. “Stay tuned to WICH-TV, folks, for the latest information on this tragic death. This is Scott Palmer, reporting from the scene of an apparent murder on Derby Street in Salem.”
    The sound clicked off, and Marty McCarthy reentered the studio. “Pretty exciting stuff, huh? The new guy did a good job, finding that old homeless dude. Looks like none of the other stations got to him yet.”
    â€œHe did okay, I guess.”
    â€œYou don’t sound too thrilled. Can’t say I blame you. I heard that you’d applied for that job, too. Tough luck.” Her expression was sympathetic. “Anyway, welcome to WICH-TV.”
    â€œThanks. Say, did you have to edit a lot in Palmer’s report? It looked a little choppy in spots.” I remembered the graphic scene I’d seen reflected in the black ball.
    Much too gory for daytime TV.
    â€œYeah. We had to cut out some stuff. Palmer got a little too close to the house, like you could see the house number in one shot. And that old guy tended to wander a little in his story. We cut some of that.”
    She turned, as though to leave the studio. “Oh. And naturally, we cut the part about that bloody raincoat having a WICH-TV logo on it.”
    I was just about to question Marty about the raincoat, and what connection the station might have to the murdered woman, when Rhonda appeared in the doorway with Aunt Ibby in tow.
    â€œHello, dear. I finished up at the library and thought you might like a ride home.” She nodded to the brunette. “Thank you, Rhonda. It’s nice to see you again.”
    I looked from my aunt to the receptionist. “You two know each other?”
    â€œA reference librarian gets to know just about every high school student who needs to write a report or use a computer.”
    Rhonda smiled, flashing dimples I hadn’t seen before. “Nice to see you, too, Miss Russell.” She gave a little wave. “Gotta get back to my desk. And, Ms. Barrett, George says he can do a test taping tomorrow morning, around ten, if that’s okay with you.”
    â€œThat’ll be fine. Thanks, Rhonda.”
    I introduced Aunt Ibby to Marty, and as they exchanged pleasantries, I put the tarot cards and most of the books into a pile.
    â€œHave you collected all the things you need, Maralee?” my aunt asked.
    â€œI think so, but I guess I should have brought a bag.”
    â€œNo problem,” Marty said. “We’ll just grab a canvas bag from George’s locker.”
    â€œWill he mind?”
    â€œOh, no. They’re not his. Just some