Murder in the Dog Days (Maggie Ryan) by P.M. Carlson Read Free Book Online Page A

came through the garage as far as the kitchen door and tossed things in from out there. But when we did finally go in, there were a lot of us.”
    “No one used the front door, then?”
    “ W e didn’t.” A ghost of a smile.
    Holly took the point and nodded resignedly. She and all the other cops had trooped in that way. Colby might as well have got himself killed in the middle of a busy intersection. However the perp had entered, the traces were mostly covered over. Well, let the Crime Scene boys sweat that problem. Holly said, “Okay, let’s go back to the discovery of the body. You turned him over to try to help, and found out he was dead. What happened next?”
    “Well, while I was turning him over I was yelling for Olivia to call an ambulance and the police. After I’d figured out I couldn’t help him I looked back at the door. Little Josie was there, and Donna, gaping. Donna was trembling. I was afraid she’d get hysterical or faint or something. So I told her to get Josie the hell out of there, to take her to the kitchen. And I asked her to check on my daughter because I’d just dumped her in the kitchen on my way in with the crowbar. That sort of brought Donna to her senses. She rallied around pretty well. I stayed in the room with the body. By the door.”
    “Did you move anything?” Holly demanded. She caught the glimmer of incipient anger and added hastily, “I have to ask. There are a lot of questions I have to ask.”
    “Yeah, okay, I know.” Maggie sprawled back into the corner of the sofa and pushed her fingers through her curls. “I keep thinking we’re on the same team, but you can’t assume that yet, can you?”
    “I try not to assume much.” Holly made herself meet Maggie’s eyes. Appraising eyes, skeptical yet friendly.
    Still sprawled, Maggie dropped her hands to rest on her round belly and shifted her gaze to the big blank TV. “Okay, I’ll play your rules. The answer is no. I didn’t move anything or touch anything except poor Dale. I didn’t step anywhere except on the carpet between Dale and the door. The only reason I stayed in that room at all was to keep other people from running in and touching things. Kids especially.”
    “So you were the only person in the room after the door was pried open?”
    “Well, no. Jerry came in.”
    “Your brother.” Wonderful. Whole platoons of Ryans tramping across the crime scene.
    “Right. He and Nick and Tina arrived with the pizzas. I hollered down the hall for him to come.”
    “Why did—” Steady, Schreiner. No need to squawk at her.
    But Maggie was already defending herself, straightening up, gesturing with those lean, graceful hands. “Look, I wanted to be absolutely sure! He’s a doctor, damn it! We stupid laymen aren’t all that confident about our medical judgments. A guy is lying there, bloody, he’s been attacked—but we don’t want to believe he’s dead. We cling to hope too long. Can you understand that?”
    “Yes, of course, Mrs. Ryan. I just—”
    The front door opened. Holly turned to look at it, almost grateful for the interruption.
    It was Higgins’ partner that she’d seen outside. Patterson, said the nameplate under his shield. He was escorting a blonde woman, trim, a carefully made up forty. Red flare-leg slacks, a sleeveless white blouse, wavy hair sprayed stiff. She was gesturing indignantly at the policeman.
    “Look, what is this? What’s going on?” she demanded. She spotted Maggie and Holly, and appealed to them. “Can you tell me what’s happening? I just want to talk to Dale. Is this some new trick of his?”
    “You want to talk to Dale?” Holly asked, standing up. “About what?”
    “He knows about what! I’ve been phoning him about it for days!” She paused to eye Holly’s unpowdered face and plain twill skirt belligerently. “Listen, who are you? Why should I talk to you?”
    Holly held up her ID. “Detective Schreiner,” she said. “Who are you?”
    “Jesus, what next?”