Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #4: Books 13-16 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [story read aloud .txt] 📗

me from the start. How and why did he dispose of the body the way he did? Whichever way you look at it, it doesn’t make a damned bit of sense. He just would not have done that.” I shook my head. “He didn’t kill her, Dehan. He is not the guy.”

FOURTEEN

She backed out of the lot and turned left onto Storey Avenue. Her face was rigid. The wipers set up a steady squeak and thud as the street lamps washed the cab by turns with amber light and shadow. I closed my eyes and said, “You’re not allowed to be mad at me. I was run over today, by a Dodge Ram.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“But you will be in a minute.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I want you to go via Rosedale and Gleason. I want to stop at the Reynolds’ on the way home to give them the news.”

“Son of a bitch!”

“See? I told you. Not allowed.”

“Ten minutes, Stone! We go in, we tell them and we leave.”

“OK.”

As we cruised up Rosedale, she asked me in a flat voice, “You don’t want to go and see Chad, too?”

“Uh-uh, that can wait till tomorrow. But I think we should get the Reynolds’ reaction straight away.”

She was quiet for a bit. When she spoke again, there was a curious frown in her voice. “What’s on your mind, Stone?”

“A large whiskey.”

“I’m serious!”

“I don’t know, Dehan. I just want to see how they react.” I still had my eyes closed. I put on my best English accent and added, “You know my methods, Watson. Apply them!”

“Dork.”

We pulled up outside the Reynolds’ house, behind the white pickup truck. The back was covered in a blue tarp. We climbed out of the Jag and slammed the doors. My body felt like it was made of painful concrete. The rain had slowed to a heavy drizzle. As I squeezed past the hood of the Jag, I peered under the tarp on the pickup. Then we moved across the road and Dehan went ahead to ring on the bell. The door was opened after a moment by Samuel. He stared at us each in turn for a moment, then said, “We were eating.”

Dehan answered. “We are sorry to disturb you. We have some important news about the case. We thought you and your dad would want to know straight away.”

He stepped back and said, “You’d better come in,” and jerked his chin toward the living room that doubled as his father’s bedroom. We went in. They had dark green drapes closed over the window, an old, electric fire burning and a TV set up on the table so the old man could watch it from the bed. Samuel had a plate of meat and mashed potatoes on the floor beside his straight-backed chair. His father watched us come in with his mouth slightly open. “What’s happened?” he said.

“Turn off the TV, Daddy. The detectives have some news for us.”

He didn’t wait for his father. He picked up the remote control and killed the TV. Then he sat on his hard chair, but didn’t pick up his plate. His dad watched Dehan sit on the sofa, and as I sat next to her, he scowled and said, “You sent a whole load of cops trampin’ all over my baby’s bedroom, takin’ away sheets, making a whole mess up there. Lenny never made a mess like that! Gave me pain in my chest and sent my blood pressure right up. Samuel very nearly had to rush me to ER.”

I waited till he’d finished and said, “I’m very sorry about that, Mr. Reynolds. It’s actually about Lenny that I wanted to talk to you.” I glanced at Samuel. He was frowning hard. “He is now our prime suspect. My chief believes the case is all but closed.”

Reynolds’ mouth sagged. “Lenny? No! No, no! No! Not Lenny! You must be out of your minds. Lenny didn’t kill my Celeste! He was crazy about her! Ever since she was born! He doted on her like an uncle. Like he was my own brother. We was practically family!”

I grimaced and glanced at Samuel again. He had gone pale. I said, “There is actually more to it than that. You both need to brace yourselves because this is bad news. Celeste and Lenny had been lovers for about six months before she was killed.”

Samuel closed his eyes. “Sweet Jesus!”

His father was squinting, giving his head little shakes. “How could you possibly know a thing like that?”

Dehan said, “That’s what those officers were doing in her room, Mr. Reynolds. They found traces of Lenny’s semen on her sheets.”

Samuel got to his feet. He looked suddenly huge, as though he had grown by a couple of feet. His voice boomed, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, and sweet fuckin’ Joanna! In our own fuckin’ house! Under our own fuckin’ roof!”

His father almost screamed at him, “Language, Samuel! You will not use that blasphemous language in my house!”

Samuel’s face went crimson. He stared hard at the wall and his jaw muscle bunched and pulsed like an artery. “Under our own roof!” he said again. “In our own house! It was God’s punishment! She had no shame! May God forgive me! My own sister, and she had no shame! It was God who struck her down!”

I spoke quietly. “Sit down, Samuel.” He frowned at me a moment, like I had asked him to do something unreasonable, and sat. “We also found her laptop at Chad Norris’ house. When we checked her emails, it emerged that they had started seeing each other about six months earlier. The theory is that during that time, she met Chad and didn’t know how to tell Lenny. On that Sunday evening, when she was on her way to Chad’s house,