Right from the Gecko by Cynthia Baxter Read Free Book Online Page A

his look of surprise, I added, “I’ve only been here a day.”
    The flicker of interest had vanished. “You’re a tourist,” he said flatly.
    I got the feeling he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Sitting up a little straighter in my seat, I said, “Not exactly. I’m here for the veterinary conference at the Royal Banyan.” A technicality, I knew, but still something I felt was worth pointing out.
    â€œI see. So you’re Dr. Popper, not Ms. Popper.”
    â€œEither is fine.” I appreciated the show of respect, even though the wary look on his face was already clueing me in to the fact that my revelation about Marnie’s “secret source” hadn’t made quite the impact I’d expected.
    Detective Paleka folded his hands together. “Look, Dr. Popper,” he said, “I’m sorry about your friend, but I’m afraid there’s not much of a mystery here. I just got off the phone with a witness who saw her coming out of a bar near the airport, the Purple Mango, at approximately nine-forty last night. She was accompanied by a man who’s most likely the person who killed her. We’ll be looking into whether she had a boyfriend, but this incident is probably the result of your friend picking up the wrong guy. Unfortunately, young women do it all the time. I can promise you we’ll find out his identity. At this point, we don’t have any reason to believe that what happened is any more complicated than that.”
    I took a deep breath. “How was she killed?”
    â€œWe don’t have the autopsy report in yet, but it looks like strangulation. Afterward, whoever killed her deposited her body in the bay.”
    I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I took a couple of seconds to get past that horrifying bit of news before I reminded myself that I’d come here with some important information of my own. “I don’t suppose you found her cell phone when you discovered her body, did you?”
    â€œNo, as a matter of fact.” He looked surprised. “Why do you ask?”
    â€œBecause I think there’s a lot more to Marnie Burton’s murder than the scenario you just described,” I replied. “And the fact that her cell phone was missing is part of it.”
    â€œReally?” He raised his eyebrows about a millimeter. “And why is that?”
    In a low, even voice, I related all the events of the past twenty-four hours. Meeting Marnie after the governor’s aide pushed her—at least, according to Marnie. Talking to her in my hotel room, when she’d mentioned, among other things, that she was on her way to meet with an informant. Discovering that she’d accidentally left an audiocassette in my room, no doubt because it had fallen out of her chaotic, overstuffed tote bag. Leaving a message on her cell phone that anyone—including her murderer—could have listened to, saying I had the tape and giving the name of my hotel and the room number. Then, soon after she was murdered, having an intruder break in to my hotel room and steal only one thing: an envelope that looked very similar to the one containing Marnie’s tape.
    After I finished, I watched the police detective’s face expectantly. I was certain that this time I’d witness an explosive reaction.
    Instead, he calmly asked, “And what exactly is on this cassette?”
    â€œI don’t know.” I tried to come across as forceful, but my words sounded pretty wishy-washy, even to me. “I haven’t actually listened to it, since I don’t have access to a tape recorder.”
    â€œI do. Did you bring the tape with you?” He pressed a button on his phone and asked whoever answered to bring in a tape recorder. Within seconds, he was popping the cassette into the machine.
    Detective Paleka and I sat in silence as it began to play. My heart pounded so loudly I hoped it wouldn’t block out