Motion for Murder by Kelly Rey Read Free Book Online

thinking about the office again. Dougie had created his own mayhem today, and not for the first time. I could understand Ken and Howard's displeasure with Dougie's way of doing business. I could understand Hilary's tantrum, even though for once it had been misguided. I could even understand Donna's wounded pride.
    What I couldn't understand was Missy's vengeful attitude. It made me all the more curious about the paper she'd taken from Dougie's desk. I didn't condone snooping and snitching, but I thought I might get into work early and see if I could find that paper in her desk. Assuming she didn't shred it or take it home with her. Which she probably didn't, since her dates with Braxton Malloy, the Wonder Pharmacist, tended to be all-nighters. Then again, there was absolutely no reason for it to mean anything to me, other than that Missy had been acting out of character, so probably I should just mind my own business and roll into work fifteen minutes late like I usually did.
    That sounded like the better plan, so I turned my attention back to the TV as the news went off the air and was asleep before the infomercials began.

 
CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Adam Tiddle was waiting in his parked car when I got to work the next day. I didn't notice him until he came up behind me while I was looking for my keys. By that time I had nowhere to go. There was a sameness about him that should have been comforting. Same stained shirtmustard this timesame muck-covered boots, same deranged expression. What was different was the knife. "I couldn't buy bullets," he said when he saw me looking at it. "They wouldn't sell me bullets. This state." He shook his head at the sorrowful condition of a state that refused to sell ammunition to psychopaths. "I figured this was the next best thing."
    For boning a steer, maybe. "It's lovely," I said. For lack of anything else. "But I can't let you in the office. It isn't open yet." I made a show of fumbling with my key ring. There wasn't much acting about it; my hands were shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. I wasn't a dummy. I knew Tiddle wasn't after me personally, but maybe he'd take what he could get. And what he could get was me. But I wasn't ready to die, not yet, not when I hadn't put my affairs in order, or said good-bye to my loved ones, or had a decent cup of decaf.
     While I fumbled, I considered my options, which didn't take very long, since I only had one. I could spray Mace into his eyes, except the closest thing I had to Mace was a bottle of Visine, and that would only give him clearer vision while he chopped me into little pieces.
    Damn the talk show safety experts; I was on my own. And in a flash of inspiration, I decided if I bumbled around long enough outside, someone would show up to save me. Or take my place. Just my luck, Wally had decided to pick Wednesday as his day to stop warming up Howard's seat for him.
    "So," I said brightly, while I hunted for the office key among the four keys on my ring, "I guess you'll just have to come back a little later on. I'll be sure to tell Mr. Heath you stopped by."
    "I can't come back later," Tiddle said. "I gotta get a root canal at eleven."
    "Oh, that's a shame." I shook my head, full of sorrow and compassion. "Toothaches are just awful, aren't they?"
    "Not as bad as bunions," he said. "Bunions are the worst." He scratched his back with the tip of the knife.
    "Bunions are bad," I agreed. "Bunions, corns, calluses, hammer toes, just the scourge of podiatry everywhere."
    "What's podiatry?" he said.
    Huh.
    "So you can see why I gotta kill Mr. Heath as early as possible," he said. "Onaccounta it's a fifteen-minute ride across town to the tooth doc. I don't wanna be late. I gotta pay for it whether I make it or not."
    "That seems unfair," I said. "You might want to consider suing them to change that policy. We could handle that for you."
    "You people can't handle crap," he said.
    I had to disagree. We'd handled plenty of crap over the years. "Think about