In Plain Sight by Lorena McCourtney Read Free Book Online

there.”
    That thought startled me. Could some illegal activity be why Leslie Marcone was so aloof and unfriendly? And why the man with binoculars was studying her house?
    “Did you search her place?”
    “No. We hadn’t sufficient evidence of possible illegal activity to ask a judge for a search warrant.”
    “Could this neighbor simply have been trying to make trouble for her?”
    “Certainly a possibility. As it turned out, he wound up in more trouble than she did.”
    “Really?”
    “After we didn’t rush out to tell the woman she had to let him use the boat landing, he took matters into his own hands and rammed her gate with his pickup. He denied it, but paint from the pickup was all over the gate, and dents in the pickup matched the spokes in the gate. He didn’t have a record either, however, and with this being a first offense, he didn’t get any jail time, just a fine for malicious mischief. He replaced the gate with a new one, and I haven’t heard of his having problems with any other neighbors, but the man has a mean streak, that’s for sure.”
    “Could the man I saw on the dock have been him?”
    “The description doesn’t match.”
    “It sounds as if it could be a rather scary situation for Ms. Marcone.” This gave me a different perspective on her unfriendly attitude. Perhaps her wariness with strangers was justified. “I understand she lives there alone?”
    “I believe so.”
    “She’s apparently rather wealthy.”
    “Given what those Vintage Estates places cost, I’d say that’s probably true.”
    “Did you use fingerprints when you checked on her criminal record?”
    “No. We didn’t have any reason to ask for them.” The scarred eyebrow lifted. “You suspect her of something?”
    “Well … a pretentious taste in housing, if nothing else.”
    He laughed. “Agreed.”
    “Does she have a job somewhere, or maybe an office at home?”
    Sgt. Yates tilted his head and crossed his arms. “Mrs.
    Malone, are you pumping me for information?”
    “Now why would I do that?” I put a hand to my chest in righteous indignation.
    “Good question. But since you’re the woman who sent a killer to jail, after first putting him in the hospital with a concussion …” He gave me a speculative appraisal, as if wondering how a harmless-looking LOL had managed to do that.
    “But there’s no dead body involved here,” I said. A non sequitur, I suppose, but I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate.
    “True. So let’s keep it that way, shall we? No dead bodies.”
    “I’m all in favor of that.”
    “And if any of this Braxton clan show up, you remember that it’s our job to take care of them, not yours, okay? You call me if you see or hear anything.”
    I waved his card and smiled brightly to show I was prepared to do exactly that.
    “I’ll stop by again in a few days,” he said.
    I watched the pickup disappear down the driveway. A nice man. Concerned. Caring. Helpful. But with a hard core of no-nonsense lawman.
    Good. Exactly the type of person I wanted keeping an eye on me.

    It was church on Sunday, of course, and afterward some ladies invited me to dinner with them at an all-you-can-eat chuck wagon place. Since I feel financially obligated to eat as much as possible in such eating establishments, I spent the rest of the day in an overstuffed state of lethargy. On Monday I tackled a job I’d brought along, identifying and organizing jumbles of old photos into an album.
    But by Tuesday afternoon I was feeling rather at loose ends. Little cooking to do for just me. House all vacuumed. Laundry all washed and folded. A steady drizzle had started. It might be a jogging day if you were a Leslie Marcone, but I didn’t want to get out in it. Then I remembered something my mother did every spring, and on impulse I decided it would be a good job for today.
    I strung a clothesline across the covered patio between the house and garage, then dragged down the braided rag rugs from my