Dead Boogie by Victoria Houston Read Free Book Online

can get enough done here in time to make the show. Doc, let’s head back up the road and deliver the news. You, too, Ray. We still need photos of the victims once they’re removed from the wreck …” She paused, her eyes searching Ray’s face. “Are you doing okay?” “Yeah.”
    “You don’t look okay,” said Lew. “Ray,” she said, dropping her voice, “I have some idea of how you must be feeling right now. The night my son died was the worst of my life. It’s one thing when a stranger is murdered—it’s quite another when you know the person. Doc said Peg was a close friend of yours … maybe you know how I can reach her family?”
    She reached over to put her hand on Ray’s arm. “Would it help if you’re the one to call them?”
    “That I cannot do,” said Ray, moving away. “Sorry, Chief, I just … I can’t …”
    He started back through the trees to the road. Over his shoulder, he said, “If you call the Hugo Garmin main offices in Chicago, the people there should be able to put you in touch with her family. Hugo and his wife are dead but there’s a sister.”
    “Wait …” said Lew, astonished. Hurrying to keep up, she said, “Are you saying Peg is one of the Garmins? The grocery chain Garmins? That’s a huge company.”
    “Yep—she’s an heiress. Or she was before the old man excommunicated her—the sonofabitch.”
    “Hold on, Ray, this is hard to believe. Peg Garmin is connected to the Chicago Garmins?”
    “Their fallen angel.” His tone was dry.
    Lew’s eyes caught Osborne’s. “Did you know that?”
    “No—I’m as stunned as you are.” As they scrambled to keep up with Ray, Osborne was sure that he and Lew had to be asking themselves the same question: Known call girl, widow of a mob bag man, mistress of old Doc Westbrook, and heir to the Garmin fortune?
    “Ray? Ray!” Lew raised her voice, but the khaki shirt had disappeared from view.
    “Give him time, Lew,” said Osborne.

eight
Of the pike: it is a fish of ambush.
—J. H. Keene, The Practical Fisherman
    “Here’s the stretch where Peg’s car was run off the road,” said Ray, pointing to variations in a patch of grass growing along the ditch. “And in the sand alongside you can see tread designs from two different vehicles.”
    “Sure can,” said Lew, dropping to one knee for a close look before quickly sketching each of the tread patterns in her notebook.
    She glanced up at the two men. “This is handy. May not be official but I’ll know the minute I’m back up the road if one of these matches the tires on Peg’s car.”
    With a look of grim satisfaction, she flipped the notebook closed, then walked slowly along the road, studying the grassy section and the numerous footprints that became obvious once you knew where to look. Osborne was relieved that she had decided to back off questioning Ray about the Garmin family—for the moment at least.
    “Honestly, Ray,” said Osborne. “I don’t know how you do it. Nothing about that grass looks all that different to me. It’s not as if it’s been chewed up or mowed down …”
    “No-o-o, but it’s been disturbed, Doc. Not bent or broken … just … disturbed. When I was driving down this way, my first thought was it looked like deer had been bedding down. Didn’t fit. When’s the last time you saw deer bedding down this close to a road? So I pulled over to check it out, and that’s when I spotted those tread marks.”
    “And thank goodness you did, Ray,” said Lew. “The Wausau boys may do good lab work, but they would never pick up on something so subtle as disturbed grass. I know I wouldn’t. And look how much we’ve accomplished here—from evidence of Peg’s car run off to the murder site—”
    “Yep. I got photos of every bit of it, too. While the sun was good and high so you’ll have the definition you need.” He looked at Lew. “If you and Doc are okay with this, shall we drive back up so I can shoot those last few photos that