Page 18 of One Little Memory
“Oh. They found an elderly resident dead this morning by his shack. CVPD is investigating because it looked suspicious.”
Jo frowned. “Do you get a lot of violent crime around here?”
“No. Not at all. Although Gus Marchand, the dead guy, was not a nice man, so I can’t say I’m surprised he was killed. He’s always been a nasty piece of work. Very mean and aggressive with everyone. Well, except his friend Lloyd Bondy. They were mean old men together, but hey, I guess everyone needs a friend.”
She could say that again. Jo let out a breath. “A murder?” At Hazel’s nod, she continued. “That will keep him busy for sure.” A small stone seemed to lodge itself in the pit of her stomach. She’d been hoping she would see more of Phoenix, but sounded like she’d be on her own.
“Yes. There will be a lot of pressure to solve it.” Hazel put two cups of tea on the coffee table. “I assumed you like it the way I do, with milk. Most people like it with lemon, but I didn’t bring any so you’re stuck with milk.”
Jo laughed. “I’m not sure how I like my tea, but I’m sure it’s fine. I discovered I like fruity tea, though. What kind of cookies are they?” she asked as Hazel set the small plate with a few cookies on it down in front of her.
“Oatmeal Raisin. Again, you’re stuck with what I like. I didn’t have time to go to the store.”
It suddenly hit her that Hazel was supposed to be home sleeping. “Why aren’t you resting? I thought that was your plan when you left the hospital.”
Hazel waved her off. “I tried, but I’m not used to sleeping during the day at the moment, so it just wasn’t going to happen. Besides, I wanted to bring you some clothes.”
“I appreciate it. I really do.”
Hazel smiled and then took a sip of tea. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She got up and went over to another of the bags she’d placed on the table. “I brought you some puzzle books and some regular books as well. I also brought you my old tablet. Since you don’t have your phone, I thought you might want to surf the web while you are resting.”
“You are so kind.”
Hazel waved her off. “Not a problem. I wouldn’t want you to be bored. I know you have the TV, but sometimes I find it just nice to sit in solitude and use my brain rather than watch something mindless.”
Jo nodded. She wanted to say that she felt that way, too, but she wasn’t sure if that was a real emotion or just something she was feeling presently. She took a sip of tea to keep from grinding her teeth in frustration. It was good. “I like Earl Gray with milk.”
Hazel smiled. “Try one of the cookies.”
She took a bite and chewed. “Not bad.”
“See? I knew we’d be friends.” Hazel’s phone went off, and she answered it. “Hey, Mom. Yes. Uh-huh. Sure. Give me twenty minutes. Okay. Bye.” She turned to Jo. “Sorry, but my mom needs help. She runs the concession stand at the high school, and after the big game last night, she needs to get it all cleaned up.”
“Oh, did you want some help?” Jo wanted desperately to go with Hazel wherever she was going. Being alone did not appeal to her at all.
“No, we’re fine. You rest up, and I’ll drop by later.”
Jo stood when Hazel left and poured herself another cup of tea. Hazel had made a whole pot. Then she sat back down on the sofa and picked up one of the crossword puzzle books. She grabbed a pencil and opened the cover. She might as well give it a shot. Maybe it would help her remember things. Did she even like puzzles? She’d soon find out.
CHAPTER 8
“Wait.You’re telling me that the gunshot center mass in his chest didn’t kill him?” Phoenix couldn’t believe it. Jesus, what the hell was it with this case?
Damian Kennedy, the medical examiner, shook his dark blond head. “No, the gunshot killed him, but see these bruises on his face?” He pointed to the darkened skin around Gus’s right eye. “And see this pattern here?” He pointed to more bruising across Gus’s thighs. “These were caused by being hit by a car.”
Phoenix frowned. “So, someone hit him with a car and then got out and shot him when he was on the ground?”
Kennedy scowled. “Someone really wanted Gus Marchand dead.”
Phoenix drew in a deep breath and immediately regretted it. He hated the smell of formaldehyde. This whole case was turning out to be a nightmare. In his fantasies, he’d always wanted to get a murder case. Not that he wanted someone to die, but in the abstract; solving a murder sounded challenging. He’d always been up for a challenge, but this, this case was a nightmare. Gus, who really wasn’t Gus, was run over and then shot.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“Yeah. That about sums it up.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me?” he asked as he looked over at the medical examiner. Damian was fairly new to Cherry Valley. He’d arrived about ten months back from somewhere in the Midwest. He was near Phoenix’s age, which put him in his early to mid-thirties, with dark blond hair and blue eyes. He was maybe an inch shorter than Phoenix with a lean build. It was obvious he kept himself in shape, and if scuttlebutt around town was true, he kept himself to himself. He was a flirt but hadn’t said yes to any of the single ladies in town.
“There are bits of glass in his clothing, so someone probably lost a headlight when they hit him. Also, some paint chips. I think it’s a dark metallic blue, but I can confirm under a microscope. I’m handing everything off to the state lab. The mayor said they were handling the forensics.”
