The Sunset Witness by Gayle Hayes Read Free Book Online

knife!"
    Deputy Nelson suggested I look around to see if
anything was out of place or missing.
    "I don't see anything else," I said.  Then
I realized I'd not been alone in the house before.  The old fear crawled
through my body, and I sank into the chair next to the table.  “Someone was
still in the house when I came in the first time.  Whoever it was waited until
I was gone, took the knife out of the mural, and left.”  I was exhausted and
afraid.  If I'd not had to focus on the deputy's questions, I probably would
have dissolved into tears.
    I told Deputy Nelson exactly what had happened
earlier that evening.  Then I told him I'd arrived the day before and gave him
the names of everyone I'd met so far.  I told him Dinah had mentioned there was
a murder, and I wondered if they had a suspect.  Deputy Nelson could not answer
that and told me I'd get a visit from a detective the next day.  He suggested I
have Dinah change the lock on the door.  He told me not to touch anything until
the detective told me the scene had been cleared.  I gave him my cell number
and told him I'd be staying with Frank that night and would not return to the
house until the detective contacted me.  I thanked him for coming and put his
card in my pocket.  He packed my overnight bag to his vehicle after I'd put a
change of underwear, my pajamas and robe, and my bag of toiletries inside.  I
turned off the lights and locked the door, making sure I put the key in my
purse.
     

 
     
     
    Thursday, June 2, 2011
     
    The next morning I awoke to the sounds of Frank
stirring in the kitchen.  After not sleeping well for the previous two nights,
I drifted off to sleep until my cell phone woke me again.  It was a detective,
Josie Gannon, from the Agate County Sheriff's Department.  I agreed to meet her
and an evidence technician at Frank's house in two hours.
    I wrapped my robe around me and went to the kitchen
for coffee.  I found a cup in the cupboard and was filling it when Frank came
in from the porch with the newspaper.  It was too windy to read outside that
day.  I used the bathroom and sat at the kitchen table with my coffee.  Frank
closed the newspaper and asked if I'd like toast and jam.  I didn't need the
toast and jam as much as I needed Frank's attention.  It was comforting and
reminded me of mornings when I was a child sipping cocoa while mother buttered
my toast and spread jam on it.  He asked why I was grinning.  I told him he
reminded me of my mother that morning and my father the day before at the
diner.
    "You kind of remind me of my daughter the last
time I saw her," he said.
    "I didn't know you had a daughter."
    "Had is about right.  Donna would prefer I was
dead," he said.
    "That's awful.  I don't mean to judge her, but I
can't imagine wishing my father was dead, and I wasn't always very close to
him.  Did Dennis mention anything about my father to you?" I asked.
    "No.  Why would he?" Frank asked.
    "I detected some disapproval toward my father in
Dennis' conversation yesterday."
    "Why weren't you close to your father?"
Frank asked.
    "He was a criminal defense attorney.  I was
embarrassed by the kinds of cases he took.  He and my mother had a terrible
fight once.  She accused him of representing scum, and he shouted the scum were
the only reason we had such a cushy life.  She broke every bottle of expensive
perfume he'd ever bought for her.  I could smell the mixture of perfume out in
the hall the next day.  They had to replace the carpet in the bedroom.  I
wanted to tell my father I'd be happy to give up our lifestyle if it meant I
could be proud of him.  But he had a temper, and I was afraid to confront him,"
I said.  Frank was quiet.  "Did Donna disapprove of your job?" I
asked.
    Frank took a deep breath, chewed on his lower lip,
and tapped on the floor with his cane as if to summon memories he'd chosen to
forget.  He hooked his right leg with the cane, and turned to face me, folding
his hands on