Post Pattern (Burnside Mystery 1) by David Chill Read Free Book Online Page A

Wurman?"
    "Right. Evan played football his freshman year,
then dropped out of college. He was a fast little receiver but just too small
for the college game. Wurman and the Freemans go back a long ways. They were
next door neighbors over in Brentwood."
    I nodded and asked the question that was sure to make
the bran flakes work even quicker. "Do you have any reason to believe that
Robbie's death was not an accident?"
    The question produced a response at the table which I
could have predicted with a Ouija board. Deep breaths, a couple of coughs,
shifting of posture. All eyes fell eventually to Max.
    "No, none I can think of," he finally said.
"The only one who was out of the living room when it happened was Lenny
Caputo, and he was practically unconscious. After Robbie and that big guy
carried Lenny to the bedroom, Robbie didn't return to the party. That's the
last anyone saw of him."
    "Did Lenny ever have any problem with Robbie?"
    "A little maybe," Max said, thoughtfully.
"Robbie beat him out of the starting job at flanker, but he did it fair
and square. Robbie was the better receiver. I know Lenny used to bellyache that
Robbie bought it with his father's money but nobody believed that. We all knew
different. But I couldn't see how a grudge like that could be kept for so long.
No, there's just no way that Lenny could have done anything. It had to have
been an accident. There's just no other explanation."
    The table grew silent and everyone looked down, caught
up in their thoughts. After a minute, Max raised his head. "It's possible
I'm not the best person to talk to."
    "Who might be?" I inquired.
    "Maybe Evan. He has a reputation for being into
some weird stuff. I wouldn't trust him. For that matter I didn't trust Robbie
himself too much."
    I nodded. That was becoming no surprise. After leaving
my card with the Brewers, I excused myself and left.
    *
    Since the name Evan Wurman had come up a few times, I
naturally wanted to speak with him. Additionally, he was one of the guys who
was packing a gun at Norman's party. I was disappointed when I tried his
Westwood apartment and learned he wasn't there. The high pitched male voice
that answered the intercom told me he was out of the country for a few days. I
drove back to the office wondering who I'd call on next, when I found a pair of
surprise guests waiting outside my office. Norman said he and Ashley had only
been there for a few minutes.
    “Hello there,” I said, and ushered them into my office
and motioned for them to sit down. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
    “Thank you,” Norman said in a low voice.
    “I imagine you’ve postponed your wedding. “
    “Yes,” he responded. “We’re going to wait until… this situation
blows over. You can't go from a funeral to a wedding this quickly."
    I concurred and we sat down. The two were holding hands
but I noticed there was no diamond on Ashley’s left hand.
    “Have you put away your engagement ring?”
    Ashley’s lips tightened. “I don’t know whether it was
lost or stolen. The other day I looked down and it was just gone. Disappeared.
It may have slipped off my finger. I don’t know. This has simply been a
terrible week all around.”
    “Bad things come in bunches. Sorry.”
    Both of them looked down at the floor. In a grey t-shirt
and jeans, Norman appeared, if anything, younger and even more guileless. His
blue eyes drooped slightly and there were tiny, sporadic red veins evident. The
end of his nose was tinged with a sharp rawness. He slumped in the chair, his
strong chin held up by a fist whereas previously he had the posture of a Marine
Corps soldier.
    "Mr. Burnside," Norman began, "I'd like
to thank you for spending time looking into what happened to my brother. You've
taken your job seriously and I appreciate it. But, at this point I think you
can stop your investigation."
    "You've paid me for five days, kid. I'm only
halfway through my second day."
    "The family believes," Ashley said, "that
Robbie's death