Dark Waters (The Jeff Resnick Mysteries) by LL Bartlett Read Free Book Online

subject.
    I don’t know what story he’d fed Brenda to explain his absence, and I didn’t want to know in case she grilled me later — that way I could plead innocent.
    I patted him on the shoulder. “Look, I’ll give my friend Sam a call. I spoke to him last night and it turns out he’s a boat aficionado and he’s got connections. He might have some ideas.”
    Richard nodded. “Thanks.” He turned and headed back up the dock for the marina manager’s office.
    I pulled out my cell phone and hit Sam’s number, which was on speed dial. Unfortunately, I got his voice mail, but I told him the short version of what had happened, and gave him the boat’s registration number. I may have stressed that the boat had previously belonged to a drug dealer. I asked him to call me, reminding him I was open to accompanying him on the interviews, and left my number, hoping our conversation the evening before might give him the incentive to dig a little for my — well, Richard’s — benefit.
    After that, I caught up with Richard, who was waiting in the front parking lot for the cops to show up. He’d get a lot further with his insurance company if he had a police report to back him up. And knowing Richard, he’d probably already made a call to his insurance agent. The company appreciated his business and I was sure he would make it worth their while to send an adjustor out before the end of the day. Well-heeled clients had done the same for me when I worked in the insurance business. Knicks game tickets, restaurant vouchers — not that I’d asked for or expected them, but it had made them feel better, and keeping the customer satisfied — even ordinary Joes — had its own rewards.
    I clapped Richard on the shoulder but didn’t say anything. He seemed grateful for even that small gesture. We’d get through this. But something niggled the back of my brain, telling me that whoever had vandalized the boat hadn’t found what he was looking for.
    Not yet, at least.

Chapter 6
    Richard pulled up the driveway and found Da-Marr in front of the garage door, down on one knee beside the guts of the old lawnmower, which had been spread out across the asphalt.
    Now what?
    Richard switched off the engine, grabbed his keys, and got out of the car. “What’s going on?” he asked, trying to sound jovial.
    Da-Marr looked up, disgusted. “This thing is a piece of shit. You know that?”
    “We don’t use it. I have a lawn service come and cut the lawn every week.”
    “Yeah, well tell that to Aunt Evelyn. She told me to get out here and cut the grass, but this thing hasn’t been started in years. I cleaned it up, but this spark plug needs to be replaced. It ain’t firing right and I know you don’t got no gap gauge.”
    “A what?” Richard asked, puzzled.
    “See?” Da-Marr challenged. He straightened. “If Brenda will loan me her car, I’ll go get a new one — and a gallon of gas — and get this grass in shape.”
    “But I already told you — ”
    “And I told
you
what Aunt Evelyn said.”
    He certainly had. Richard was also glad the kid hadn’t asked to borrow the Mercedes. He didn’t even like Brenda driving it, and he knew she was careful. Well, most of the time.
    Da-Marr went back to work, reassembling the engine, and Richard headed for the house. He hesitated before opening the door. He couldn’t pick up bad vibes like Jeff could, but it seemed like a cloud of tension had settled over his home. He wished he had an excuse to escape, but the hospital board wasn’t meeting for another two weeks, and he was caught up with the paperwork the volunteer job entailed.
    Once inside, he hung up his jacket and entered the kitchen. Evelyn sat at the table with a hardcover book open before her. “Good morning,” she said with what sounded like disapproval.
    “It’s getting close to noon now,” he answered with a nervous smile. “Is Brenda around?”
    “She felt tired, so I made her go lie down.”
    Like Brenda