Storm Gathering by Rene Gutteridge Read Free Book Online Page B

eyes.
    “Did she say anything about a relationship? a boyfriend?”
    “Not really. She mostly spoke in general terms. I got the feeling she’d had her share of loser boyfriends.”
    Crawford took out a notepad. “Loser boyfriends. She didn’t name any names?”
    “I don’t remember any.”
    “Because you were drunk.”
    “Or she didn’t say any,” Mick said forcefully.
    Crawford was not deterred. “Was she drunk?”
    “No, not really. Had a couple of scotches. But she drove. Got back here alive, didn’t I?”
    “Can the humor,” Aaron said to Mick, which wiped the smile off his face.
    “Did she say anything about going anywhere? leaving?”
    Mick scratched the back of his head in recall. “I don’t remember too much of the conversation. I’m sorry.”
    “I’d suggest you remember all you can.” Crawford observed the Band-Aid over his eye. “What happened to your face?”
    Mick fumbled his words, while everyone shifted uncomfortably. Finally he said, “Just a fight. The day before yesterday. Aaron can confirm it,” Mick said, touching the Band-Aid.
    Aaron stared at the strange scratch across Mick’s cheek, which he was sure had not come from the fight. He swallowed and looked at Crawford’s amused eyes. “Yeah. It was the day before yesterday.”
    “Okay.” Crawford shrugged. Then without warning he turned back to the living room, suddenly seeming uninterested.
    Mick looked at Aaron and Aaron looked at Halloway.
    Halloway seemed perplexed. “Crawford, you want us to take him in?”
    “Naw,” Crawford said and began walking back toward the bedroom.
    Halloway appeared stunned when he turned back to Aaron and Mick. “Looks like you’re free to go,” he said.
    “Crawford’s done?” Aaron asked.
    “Stay around the city,” Halloway told Mick.
    Aaron said, “Mick, go wait by the car. I’ll be there in a second.” He watched his brother drag his feet out the door and down the stairs like an eight-year-old boy on his way to his room.
    “What do you think?” Aaron asked Halloway.
    “I’m surprised Crawford didn’t bring him in. He’s always itching to get his hands on a criminal, you know.”
    “Mick’s no criminal. He makes a lot of bad judgment calls, but he would never harm a woman.”
    Halloway’s nod was not full of confidence. “We’ve contacted her mother, who hasn’t heard from her, and a couple of acquaintances, who also haven’t heard from her. We’ll interview neighbors as soon as we can find them. The fact that her car is here isn’t a good sign. And the fact that your brother was drunk and hardly remembers a thing isn’t going to go over well.”
    “Then why is Crawford letting Mick go?”
    “Who knows with that guy. Probably playing some sort of mind game. He’s got some of the strangest methods. Sometimes I think if he weren’t playing detective he’d be in a mental hospital somewhere. Have you seen the way he organizes his desk?”
    “He was in the military, wasn’t he? The discipline probably came from that.”
    “I don’t know. Seems more obsessive-compulsive to me, but I’m no shrink.”
    “Well, he always gets the bad guy, doesn’t he?” Aaron said with a small smile.
    “Yeah. Let’s just hope it’s not your brother.”

Mick and Aaron rode in silence back to Tony’s to get his car, except when Aaron asked about the scratch. The explanation of falling into the bathroom wall at the bar seemed like a lame excuse, evident by Aaron’s unemotional stare out the windshield.
    At Tony’s, Mick got out and unlocked his car, pretending like he was going to get in. He watched his brother’s patrol car peel out of the parking lot. When he was out of sight, Mick walked into Tony’s, but not before momentarily observing the dark clouds swirling overhead. Storms would develop later on with the afternoon heat.
    At noon, scarcely a soul was around except a bartender named Lisa, a hard-looking woman with white spiky hair and a dark mole on her chin. Her