The Secret Keeper by Dorien Grey Read Free Book Online Page A

reiterated my belief that Jonathan might be right about Bement’s death.
    “One thing at a time,” he said. “For now, we’ll have to handle it as a routine police report, since we don’t know that it has any relation to Clarence Bement’s death. They’ll want to talk to Jonathan to find out exactly what happened. He works at Evergreen? The one out on Hollister? Do you have their phone number handy?”
    I gave it to him. “They’d better call first. Sometimes he works in the yard and sometimes he goes out on jobs with a crew.”
    “Will do,” he said. “And I’ll be sure to pass the report on to Howie Garland and Dave Angell—they’re the team looking into Bement’s death. You want to catch lunch? Dan’s got a dentist appointment, and you and I can talk a little more about all this.”
    “That’d be great,” I said. “My treat. Sandler’s okay? You name the time.”
    “Sandler’s is fine. Say twelve fifteen?”
    I called Evergreen to make sure Jonathan would be there and to give him a heads-up.
    Leaving the office, I went downstairs and across the street to the parking lot to unlock the truck and alert the attendant that the police would be showing up at some point. I left my office phone number with him in case the investigating officers might need something, then returned to my office.
    I called the airlines for reservations. American had a nine a.m. flight to Chicago Saturday morning, with a connecting commuter flight to Rhinelander, getting them there at three fifteen. I scheduled a return flight for the following Friday, getting them back here at two forty-five p.m.
    If I’d had my druthers, I’d have left the return date open and kept them away until I was absolutely positive what was going on. But Jonathan had pointed out, rightly, that he could only take so much time off from work, and that Joshua shouldn’t miss more time away from school—it might only be kindergarten but it was important—than was absolutely necessary. I reluctantly agreed.
    The rest of the morning was spent on paperwork and paying bills and general office puttering. At around eleven forty-five, I took the bus to Sandler’s Restaurant, about two blocks from police headquarters in the City Annex building. I didn’t worry about the police showing up while I was gone; I figured they’d be taking their lunch at the same time.
    As usual, I was early and was able to get the last available table. The waiter was just on his way over to refill my coffee when Marty appeared. We shook hands as he slid into the padded bench opposite me.
    After the usual small talk, the pouring of coffee, the looking at menus, and the ordering, he got right to the point.
    “So. I’m really sorry to hear about Jonathan, but do you really think someone deliberately shot at him? And that it had anything at all to do with Clarence Bement’s death?”
    “Odd as it may sound, yes and yes. Exactly why and what I don’t know.”
    He took a sip of his coffee before saying, “Well, Al Pardue and George Stein have been assigned to investigate the shooting, and I think they were planning to go see him today.”
    “Why aren’t—Angell and Garland?—looking into it? Having two sets of detectives on the same case is bound to be confusing.”
    He shook his head. “Yeah, but that’s just it—we aren’t sure it is the same case yet. I ran into Howie and Dave after I talked with you and asked them if there were anything new in the Bement case.
    “Howie’s a great guy, but he’s up for retirement in a couple of months, and he’s pretty much just going through the motions. Dave’s been on the force for eight years, but only recently made detective. He pretty much takes his cues from Howie, and Howie says there’s not much doubt but that it was a suicide. They said they were going to talk to a few more of Bement’s relatives, but it sounds like they’re pretty much ready to pack it away.”
    I knew Marty well enough to tell he wouldn’t have