Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas) by Mari Manning Read Free Book Online

but she got her vet degree.”
    “A doctor, huh?”
    “Helping my dad with the practice. I owe her. My dad had planned on me coming into the practice, but…” Rafe shrugged. “Couldn’t get my head around the idea of sticking my arm up a horse’s ass.”
    Jamey grinned. “Yeah.” His expression sobered. “Don’t see Dr. Esme around El Royo.”
    “You won’t. Some folks still haven’t forgotten what happened. She gets wolf whistles and worse, so she stays away from town.”
    Jamey’s eyes narrowed. “Somebody ought to stand up to those folks.’”
    “Leave it alone.” Esme and Rafe’s family had been through enough pain. They just wanted to forget about it and move on.
    “Sure thing.” Jamey hoisted the ladder up. “I guess I better check the roof. Don’t you have something you’re supposed to be doing?”
    “Interviewing Dinah. She looked ready to faint when I told you all about Teke.” It was not an interview Rafe was looking forward to. “Let me help you get that ladder set up before I go in.”

Chapter Six
    Rafe knocked softly on Dinah’s door. Her new “housekeeper” answered.
    “Miss Dinah will be with you in a moment.”
    She abandoned him in the entryway and scurried into the kitchen. Her voice echoed off the metal cabinets as she muttered something indecipherable to Dinah, who answered softly, “Don’t worry about it.”
    That gal had found herself on the wrong side of the law at some point. He’d bet his badge on it. As pregnant as she was, she didn’t pose much of a threat, but he’d keep an eye on her.
    In broad daylight, the house lost its air of mystery. It looked plain old tired. A small table with a set of keys was the only piece of furniture in the narrow hallway, although it shared the space with a thick cobweb. Dinah had drawn the shades down to keep the house cool, and the dim light added a layer of gloominess to the bungalow’s general air of neglect. A small pile of neatly folded clothes waited on the staircase leading up to the second floor. Not much of a wardrobe.
    He set his Stetson down and settled himself in the living room. This space was habitable and clean except for the wet stains on the carpet and the metal mixing bowls positioned beneath the damp spots in the ceiling. Two easy chairs were set at soft angles from the sofa for conversation, and in the center sat a coffee table with a cut glass candy dish—empty—and today’s edition of the Austin Statesman .
    A spoon clanked against the floor in the kitchen. More soft conversation drifted through the house. He stood and strolled over to the card table in the corner. The window had been cracked open to allow air to circulate. He leaned over the table and peered out at the Indian Hawthorn growing past the sill and spread out along the house. A great hiding place if someone wanted to hear what was going on in this room.
    He picked up the worn tarot deck lying on the table and cut it. An ancient clock surrounded by winged creatures presented itself.
    “Wheel of Fortune. The destiny card.” Dinah stood behind him with a glass of iced tea. “I brought you something to drink. You looked a little thirsty.”
    He set the cards back and took the drink from her. The tea was sweet and cold. He drained the glass.
    “Shall we sit? I’d like to know what happened to Mr. Teke.”
    They retreated to the sofa, and he pulled out his cell. “Mind if I record our conversation?”
    She shook her head. The scent of soap drifted toward him. “Now tell me about Mr. Teke.”
    He forced his head into police interview mode. “He was discovered in the park this morning and pronounced dead at the scene.”
    “Do they know how he died?” Her wide, shimmering eyes gazed at him.
    He bent his head and concentrated on his hands. “I’ll get to that in a minute. Let’s start at the beginning. When did you last see Teke Cruz?”
    “Last night. He came for a reading and left just a few minutes before you burst in.”
    His eyes