The Dead Past by Tom Piccirilli Read Free Book Online

refreshed," she said. "Did you sleep well?"
    "Yes."
    "Good. Breakfast is in the kitchen."
    She had made another feast exactly as yesterday's even though there was still enough leftover food in the refrigerator to feed Peoria. "Anna, you're overcooking like mad. Don't bother with this every day."
    "But I enjoy it, dear."
    Each of us collected our thoughts and turned them over, waiting for pieces to click and hoping for bolts of inspiration and enlightenment. My grandmother has the ultimate poker face, like a Himalayan lama who had total control over each facial muscle, every tic and nuance.
    Eventually she broke the silence. "I am going to pay a visit to the owner of the pawnshop. Perhaps Margaret's jewelry had genuine value and she was murdered for it, and then Richie in turn." She didn't seem convinced it was the proper tack to take, but realized a thread had to be pulled before any of the tapestry could unravel. "It's a long shot I'd like to follow up on. What are your plans?"
    "I don't know," I said, thinking about my rotten list. "You could ask Lowell for more information about Richie's dealings with the criminal element."
    "Anna, only you could make a car thief sound like Moriarity ."
    She shrugged and tossed the book aside. No helpful hints from Dame Agatha this morning. "Well then, you'll think of something."
    "Drop me off in town and I'll rent a truck from Edelman's Garage."
    "A truck?'
    "Yeah. I'm going to drive up into the back hills. I think I'll go see Maurice Harraday ."
    "Be careful," she said as she resumed reading. "And remember to call him Tons."
    ~ * ~
    After I picked up a '78 Jeep with a cracked windshield, no heater, and a smashed back bumper from Duke Edelman, I followed my grandmother's advice and went to see Lowell. He sat behind his desk at the police station, talking on the phone while tapping out his frustration with a pencil. I took the opportunity to use his coffee-maker to grab myself a cup while he calmly spoke to a woman who wanted him to arrest her husband's friends for keeping him out until three o'clock in the morning, and him with his allergies.
    Across the hall, Broghin's door was open but he wasn't in his office. When Lowell had finished explaining a vast amount of constitutional law to the woman, he hung up and said, "Let's go for a drive."
    "You don't sound happy."
    "That's a rare state of being for me lately.”
    “We headed anywhere in particular?"
    "C'mon."
    Uptight, his manners were mechanical, back straight enough to surf on as we walked to his cruiser. I fed off his bad mood and fell back into funk, wishing the tulips would arrive today. We drove past the courthouse, then over to the high school where we circled the ice-encrusted football field. He refused to talk, and the solid frustration that had been growing in my chest shifted into the steady beat of annoyance. Still, I kept my mouth shut because we were basically doing the same thing we had done two days ago when he picked me up from the airport. Another ten minutes passed, blinding slashes of light reflecting off the snow of last night as we drove by the lumber yard, power station and movie theater, before Lowell scratched his beard stubble and said, "I think Richie's killer left a note.”
    “Okay.”
    “Now the question.”
    “So where is it?"
    “Uh-huh."
    My stomach filled with the warm ebb of blood and nausea. Muscles in my neck bunched tight, and the hair on my nape pricked like quills. On top of that, the anger turned too, into rage, because Lowell shouldn't have wasted the twenty minutes before he told me. "What makes you think so?”
    “That night," he began and dragged up short. "That night I searched the yard to make sure the perp was gone. Broghin stayed with the body. Anna and Jim Witherton came out onto the porch, and the sheriff kept telling them to go inside and stay in the house. When I got back I noticed a dry spot on Richie's pants leg.”
    “As if something had been covering it while the snow came