Terry Odell - Mapleton 02 - Deadly Bones by Terry Odell Read Free Book Online Page B

son, dressed in pressed khakis and a clean blue shirt—most likely at the insistence of his mother that he not change out of his church clothes—sat in the second wing chair, swinging his legs back and forth, eyes darting between his parents and Gordon. Lingering more on his father than his mother, Gordon noted.
    Gordon smiled at the boy. “A lot of times, police officers have to get information from citizens—people like you. I need some help. Will you answer a few questions?” He took his notebook from his pocket.
    Another glance at his parents. Mrs. Webber nodded and her lips flattened even thinner. “Just tell the truth, Declan.”
    “Okay,” Declan said. But he avoided his parents’ eyes.
    “Great. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened when you were at the Kretzers’ party and the dogs ran away,” Gordon said.
    Declan nodded solemnly. “We were throwing sticks. Artie was fetching. He took the stick and ran away.” He tucked his chin to his chest.
    “What about Midnight?” Gordon asked. The dog, lying at Declan’s feet, pricked up his ears at the mention of his name. “Was he fetching, too?”
    “Yes,” Declan mumbled. He cast a pleading look at his parents. “I know you said to leave him in the yard, but Joey brought Artie, and Midnight wanted to play, too.”
    Two pairs of eyebrows lifted. “Declan,” both parents said simultaneously.
    “So you and Joey were playing with the dogs.” Gordon cut off any parental disapproval. When he’d called, Gordon reassured the parents that all he wanted was information. He’d conveniently left out the real reason for his visit, and let them assume it was about the runaway dogs. No mention of the bone. Not a lie. Gordon wondered why he was so reluctant to divulge that the stick was really a bone.
    Because if it turns out to be nothing, you’ll look like an overreacting idiot.
    “Were you at the party yesterday?” Gordon asked Mr. and Mrs. Webber.
    “I was, but only for a short time, early on,” Mrs. Webber said. “Nicholas coaches soccer, and he was at the game. There were quite a few children playing in the Kretzers’ yard, so I told Declan he could join them. If he behaved himself, of course. I came back to the house.” She twisted her lips in what Gordon assumed was an apologetic smile. “Saturday is my laundry day, and I hate to get behind.”
    “You didn’t realize Midnight wasn’t home?” Gordon said.
    Mrs. Webber shook her head. “No. We leave him in the yard during the day. I never thought to check.”
    Between the mother and Declan, Gordon had an approximate timeline. Joey’s family had arrived with Artie after Mrs. Webber left. Declan had dashed home and surreptitiously brought Midnight back to the party. “He gets so bored stuck in the yard all day,” Declan had said. They’d been throwing sticks, although Midnight was more of an observer than a fetcher.
    “Artie was gone for a while,” Declan said. “He came back with a stick in his mouth and then started running down the street. We went after him. That’s when you saw us.”
    Gordon thanked Declan and turned to the parents. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like Declan to show me exactly where they were playing.”
    “Over some game of fetch and a couple of runaway dogs?” Nicholas Webber said. He took another pull of his beer. “That wasn’t an ordinary stick, was it? Not if it’s bringing the Chief of Police to our house on a Sunday.”
    Suddenly wishing he’d taken Mr. Webber up on that offer of a beer, Gordon avoided the question. Even though he’d solved Mapleton’s first homicide in as long as anyone could remember, Gordon felt he was constantly on review. The mayor wanted reports every time Gordon turned around, nit-picked the budget to death, and never seemed satisfied with Gordon’s approach to managing staff. The classic micro-manager, the mayor was always looking for ways to get his name in the paper. And his picture, usually with his trophy