Killertrust by Sharon Woods Hopkins Read Free Book Online Page B

idea what, exactly, all this consisted of.
    “I, uh, don’t know for sure
what was in there. He’ll be flying back home in a couple of days. Can we fill
in the report when he gets here?”
    Haldane looked at her and
tilted his head. She was sure he could see right through her charade. “That’s
fine, ma’am. He can take care of it then.” He picked up the phone and she heard
him call for Security.
    “Great.” She spun abruptly
and sprinted for the door. Woody galloped after her. She heard Haldane call
out, “Ma’am? You’ll still need to report this to Security. Ma’am?”
    Rhetta ignored him and fled
to the door.
    Once outside, Rhetta braked
so suddenly that Woody had to skid to a stop to keep from piling over her.
“What are you running away from?” he asked, stepping around her, and glancing
over his shoulder.
    Rhetta didn’t answer.
Instead, she held her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun and
scanned the cars and vehicles in the parking lot. “I have a feeling that the
person who broke into the locker was the guy I spotted when we got here. He
looked at me kinda funny, making me think I knew him from somewhere. It has to
be him.” She swiveled her head around, continuing her search.
    Woody followed her gaze.
There was no one moving around the semi-deserted parking lot. Especially not
the man Rhetta described. “I think he’s long gone, if it was him,” Woody said,
and began ambling toward the Trailblazer. “I think you have a very vivid
imagination.” Rhetta followed, still gawking.
    Rhetta fumed. “That settles
it. I’m convinced this is some kind of stupid practical joke. I don’t know who
I ticked off, but I’m getting tired of getting jerked around.” She aimed the
remote device at the SUV and the locks snapped open. “Let’s get back to the
office, and get some real work done.”
     
Chapter 11
Monday lunchtime, December 10
    It started snowing lightly on the way back. Rhetta veered off Kingshighway into the drive-through at Rob’s
Roaster, one of her favorite delis. “It’s close to lunchtime. Let’s get a
sandwich and take it to the office.” She ordered a BLT on rye for herself.
Woody ordered two meatball sandwiches, and balanced the food sacks and two
large drinks on his lap as Rhetta navigated noon traffic. She remembered
LuEllen had brought her lunch, so she didn’t call her to ask about bringing
something. Being gluten intolerant, LuEllen usually ate salads. Rhetta wished
herself fat intolerant.
    Two minutes later, she pulled
into the parking lot and found no empty spaces near the front door. She waved
at the full lot. “Crap. That DirecTV group in the basement is having a
marketing meeting again and nabbed all the spaces. Where will our customers
park? I think I should call and ask Jeff about this. They do this twice a week,
every week and hog the parking lot all day. They should park in the back, since
they’re employees.” She continued around to the rear of the building, and eased
into a narrow spot between a service van and the Dumpster. A hand lettered sign
taped on the van’s door read, Evan the Handyman. She fumbled a minute in her
purse, but came up empty handed. “Do you have your door keys?” she turned and
asked Woody, who was looking out the window at the van. “Mine are all the way
to the bottom of this freaking black hole of a purse.” The futile trip to the
airport had put Rhetta in a sour mood, so she decided now was a good time to
call and discuss the parking issue with Jeff Patterson, owner of the building.
    Woody handed the food bags to
Rhetta, reached into his pocket, and produced his door keys.
    “Well, well, Evan is in the
building,” Rhetta said, imitating the long-standing line, “Elvis has left the
building!”
    “Pretty suspicious-looking
sign on his van,” Woody jerked a thumb toward Evan’s artwork. He didn’t seem
impressed with it. “It sorta matches his suspicious-looking ratty beard and
homeless