LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

for information on the John Doe who’d died at the Beldons’ bed-and-breakfast. So far, he’d learned that the airline ticket had come from a small town in southern Florida. This same town was where “James Whitcomb” had lived, according to his counterfeit ID. Roy had traveled there, showed the man’s picture to authorities in the area and come back with nothing.

      His next angle had been to contact plastic surgeons in Florida, but none recognized the work or knew of the case. One physician suggested it seemed to have been done twenty or thirty years ago, as techniques had changed over time. While that was interesting, it wasn’t especially helpful.

      Six months after his death, the John Doe had yet to be identified. And despite the days and nights he’d logged on this case, Roy was no further ahead. The toxicology report had revealed nothing to unravel the mystery. Because of budget restraints, Troy Davis hadn’t ordered more extensive tests.

      Roy knew the county didn’t have a lot of extra cash—and curiosity was definitely not an item in their budget. With no clear evidence of foul play, there was nothing to investigate.

      Corrie came into the office carrying a cup of freshly brewed coffee. “You’re thinking about the dead guy again.” Because they still didn’t have a name for him, his wife referred to him as “the dead guy.”

      Roy growled something unintelligible under his breath. “I’m not dropping it.”

      “Troy doesn’t have the money to continue funding the investigation.”

      “You don’t need to remind me of that.” After his last report, in which he had little information to add, Davis had said to let it go. Roy didn’t like hearing that, but there were plenty of other cases that needed his attention. Still, this one nagged at him, much the same way Dan Sherman’s disappearance had.

      “We’ve already put out more money than we’ve taken in.”

      Roy had heard that before, as well. From the beginning, Corrie hadn’t been keen on his delving into this investigation. He didn’t think she could explain her reasoning any more than he could rationalize the time and expense he’d poured into the case.

      “I can’t stop thinking the dead guy came to Cedar Cove for a specific reason,” Roy murmured, turning the puzzle around in his mind. He didn’t believe for a moment that this was a random visit. Something else that had bothered him was how the man knew about Thyme and Tide. The bed-and-breakfast wasn’t on a main road. He had to go off the freeway and down several side roads in order to find it.

      Either the John Doe had gotten completely lost in the storm, or he’d specifically chosen the Beldons’ place. If so, why?

      “Maybe he’s a hit man,” Corrie suggested, then shook her head. “I’ve been reading too many mysteries.”

      Roy had thought of that possibility himself. “In which case, he would’ve been carrying a weapon and he wasn’t.”

      “Unless it was being planted for him.” Corrie shrugged. “It happens that way in the movies.”

      “Hit men carry their own pieces.”

      Corrie leaned against the edge of his desk. “When’s the last time you spoke to Bob Beldon?”

      Roy had to think about that. “A couple of months ago, I think.” His wife had a gift for asking the right questions. “He swears he’d never seen the man before that night,” he said slowly.

      “Yes, but I remember you telling me that something about his reaction was slightly off.”

      That niggling feeling came every now and then. Roy didn’t suspect Bob of anything underhanded, nor did he believe the other man was withholding information, but often people weren’t even aware of what they knew. Bob most likely had some vague sense of recognition—so vague he didn’t consider it worth mentioning. Maybe he’d met the dead guy in his previous job or on a vacation.

      “I think I’ll pay Bob and Peggy a visit,” Roy said.

      Corrie grinned knowingly. “I figured you might think that was a good idea.”

      Peggy was working in her herb garden when he pulled into the driveway. He could see her with her straw hat and a large basket, snipping and gathering. Getting out of the car, he waved to her; she waved cheerfully back. Although the couple was around the same age as Corrie and him, they hadn’t socialized. He wasn’t sure why.

      Roy saw another car parked in the driveway, one he didn’t recognize. Probably belonged to a guest. The front door opened before he could ring the bell and Pastor Dave Flemming stepped onto the porch. Dave served as a Methodist minister and was a likable guy; Roy had met him on a number of occasions. He knew that Pastor Dave had officiated at Dan Sherman’s funeral, which had been small and private, and had met with Grace a couple of times since, helping her deal with the tragedy.

      “Roy, how are you?” Pastor Dave said, extending his hand. “Good to see you.”

      “You, too.”

      “You’re popular today, Bob,” Dave said on his way out the door.

      “You here to see me?” Bob asked.

      “If you’ve got a minute.”

      “Sure thing.” He held the screen door open and invited Roy inside. “Pastor Dave asked me to coach a church basketball team.”

      “I didn’t know you were interested in sports.”

      “I haven’t played in years,” Bob said as he led Roy into the kitchen. He offered him a glass of iced tea, which Roy declined with a shake of his head.

      They sat across the table from each other. “Apparently Grace mentioned to him that Dan and I were local sports heroes a hundred years ago,” Bob murmured.

      “You and Dan went to school together?”

      Bob nodded. “We were good friends at one time. In fact, we enrolled in the Army on the buddy plan and took our training together.”

      As long as Roy had lived in Cedar Cove, he couldn’t remember the two men having more than a nodding acquaintance.

      “I don’t think you came by to ask me about Dan, now did you?” Bob said.

      “No. I’m still trying to find out who your visitor was.”

      “You learn anything?” Bob leaned forward slightly.

      Roy shook his head. “I know you’ve gone over the details of that night a number of times.”

      “With you and with Troy.” Bob sounded bored.

      “I appreciate your cooperation.”

      Bob nodded. “No problem.”

      “Tell me your impressions again.”

      “Let me think.” Bob leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. “It was late. The news was over and Leno was just coming on. I saw the car’s headlights from the window and asked Peggy if we had any guests down on the books. She said we didn’t.”

      “What was your first reaction when you saw him?” Roy asked.

      His eyes remained closed. “Hey—you know what? I thought he seemed familiar, which is odd because I didn’t get a good look at his face. I’d kind of forgotten about that, with all the commotion the next morning.”

      “Familiar?” Roy pressed. “In what way?”

      Bob frowned. “I don’t know. Nothing definite.”

      “His walk? The way he carried himself?”

      “Maybe.”

      “What else?”

      Bob opened his eyes and shook his head. “I had…an uneasy feeling.”

      “Define uneasy,” Roy probed.

      Bob thought

Скачать книгу