In Plain Sight by Barbara Block Read Free Book Online Page A

the ME?”
    â€œI’m telling you, you guys should take the time to explore some other possibilities,” I replied, picturing the expression on Marsha’s face when she was talking about her Shih Tzus.
    Connelly rolled his eyes, and I jammed my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t be tempted to slug him. The man definitely does not bring out the best in me.
    â€œWhat I’m telling you,” I continued, even though I knew it was useless, “is that she wouldn’t have done something that left her dogs in her husband’s care and that even if she did want to kill herself, she’d never have gone to a spot like the LeMoyne Reservoir.”
    â€œYou know this for a fact?”
    â€œYes,” I lied, not that it mattered since Connelly was so obviously uninterested in anything I had to say.
    â€œThen put it in writing and send it to the District Attorney. As far as I am concerned the case is closed. The lady killed herself. The ME said it. The death certificate is filled out that way. That’s all I have to know. Frankly I don’t give a fart about her dogs or her conversation with you or the papers you never saw, but if it makes you feel better, by all means send a letter.”
    â€œSo it can go in a file?”
    â€œI don’t have time for this,” Connelly said. “I’ve got too much to do.” He turned and went toward the elevator.
    I watched him go. His response didn’t surprise me. I’d expected it. Well screw him. I’d write that letter to the DA all right. But first I’d get some more facts to put in it, enough so that the investigation would have to be reopened. Then if that didn’t work, I’d take the story to the newspaper.
    I stepped outside and stopped to light a cigarette. While I searched around in my bag for my lighter I thought about the grieving widower. I wondered how long he’d be grieving and if he had a little cutie on the side. He probably did. For some reason ugly men always seem to get good-looking girls. No. Whichever way I looked at it Marsha’s death was just too damned convenient. She’d come to me wanting to get out of a bad marriage; then two days after that she “kills herself” in a place I’d wager anything she didn’t know existed, and surprise, surprise the husband winds up with everything including the dogs, the one thing Marsha hadn’t wanted him to have.
    I put my hand to my mouth. With everything that was happening I’d forgotten all about my promise to take care of them. I went back in the lobby and used the pay phone on the far wall to call Merlin. He wasn’t home. As I left the PSB and crossed the street to my car I decided I’d try again later. From what Marsha had said I was sure Merlin would be glad to have them off his hands. The next question of course was what to do with them? I thought about that while I got in the cab. Then I remembered a customer of mine, Nancy Sharen. Her toy poodle had died a couple of months ago, and she’d been talking about getting another one. Maybe she’d like a couple of Shih Tzus instead. I glanced at my watch. It was a little after four. The beauty salon Nancy worked at wasn’t that far away. Maybe I could catch her there and get the matter resolved.
    But she wasn’t in. She’d stepped out to do an errand and I’d missed her by five minutes. I left a message with the receptionist and got back in my cab. If Nancy wanted the dogs, she could call me, and if not, I’d find someone else. I was running through my list of possible people as I drove toward Wellington. Marsha’s papers, the ones she’d wanted me to see, were probably long gone by now, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Maybe Garriques could tell me. I took a left at the next intersection and headed toward the school.
    As I turned into the entrance a sign proclaimed, “Welcome to Wellington.” Except for a couple of cars