Negative Image by Vicki Delany Read Free Book Online Page A

floor. Some cheese and little green grapes too.”
    “Point is,” Winters said, “the bottle was open, but either nothing was drunk or only a very small amount. Same with the food. The person Steiner was expecting might have failed to show, or, if he did come, he might have not wasted time on pleasantries. So far, no one’s come forward to say they saw anyone in the room, heading for it, or wandering around reading the door numbers. Mrs. Steiner has the room next door, and she says she didn’t hear anything. I think she didn’t hear a lot of things.”
    “Steiner was kneeling over the toilet,” Keller said. “Was he sick into it?”
    “Doesn’t look like it,” Townshend said. “His stomach might not have gotten the message to upchuck before his brain ceased to compute.”
    “You have such a lovely way with words, Alison,” Lopez said. “The maintenance man was apparently on the floor late afternoon or early evening, something about a broken lamp. That room is at the other end of the hall from Steiner’s, but he might have seen something. He’s not working today. I’m trying to track him down.”
    “The gun?” Keller asked.
    “It was wiped clean,” Townshend said, swallowing the last of her sandwich. “No surprise there. Unregistered, which is definitely not a surprise. It’s the type used to kill Steiner. We’ll run tests, of course, to ensure it’s the actual one.”
    “Not much doubt,” Keller said. “Guns are not in the habit of showing up in Trafalgar garbage.”
    “For now,” Winters said, “my money’s on the assistant. She seems to have done a runner. I’ve issued an alert for her, across the province and at the borders with Washington, Idaho, and Montana.”
    Lopez’s phone rang. “Yeah? Escort her to the hotel right away. Someone will meet her at the front.” He put the phone away.
    “Speak of the devil. The assistant, Diane Barton. Horseman stopped her heading toward town on Highway 3. She’ll be here in about ten minutes.”
    “Drat. If that’s it for now?” Winters looked around the table. They all nodded. “I’m meeting IHIT at the Castlegar airport at noon tomorrow. We’ll come straight here. They’ll want an update.”
    “I love drain day,” Townshend said.
    ***
    Diane Barton was in her mid-twenties. She was tall, lean and fit, brown hair cut short with no attempt at style. She wore loose chinos, pockets everywhere, and a baggy Toronto Maple Leafs sweatshirt. Brown eyes blinked behind thick glasses and a broad silver ring circled every one of her ten digits. She wore no make-up and walked with long strides and her handshake was firm.
    “Gee,” she said, when Winters told her of the death of her employer, “that’s too bad.”
    The dirty plates in the conference room had been cleared in the few minutes since the police meeting, and fresh tea was ready. Winters could get used to working in this environment.
    Diane dropped into a chair. “What happened?”
    “When did you last see Mr. Steiner?”
    “Last night. Around five, I guess. We’d been out shooting most of the day, and went over the pictures.”
    “Where was this?”
    “In his room. He didn’t like them.”
    “Didn’t like what?”
    “The pictures. Said they were crap. Which they were. He figured it was the light and wanted to go someplace different. That’s what I was doing today. Looking around for the right place.”
    “All day?”
    “I’ve been sitting in the damn car all day. There was an avalanche on the pass. Dumped a shitload of snow all over the highway. I had to wait for freaking hours. I tried to call Rudy, but,” she shrugged, “there’s no reception up there. Do you think they allow smoking in here?”
    “I doubt it.”
    “Me too.” She eyed the tray of sandwiches. “Are those for us?”
    “Help yourself.” Her story about her phone was probably right. In these mountains you didn’t have to move far from the center of town to lose the signal. “How long have you been