Bay of Deception Read Online Free PDF Page A

murder. 
    "Documentation couldn’t help me there,” he said, rising from the couch and walked the few paces to the front window.  Pushing the drapes aside, he looked out on the impeccable gardening and the money it spoke of.  His unmarked police cruiser sat on the street as he’d left it over an hour before, looking shabby so close to the new Jeep in the driveway or even the sky blue Mercedes across the street.  Far older, in fact, than its two years.  That’s what fog every afternoon will do he thought, and wondered what the couple from his lunch hour had thought of his car.  
    He let the curtain fall, sending the room and his dazzled eyes into a draconian kind of darkness.  The lamp beside Mrs. McKenny flicked on after a moment, allowing him to maneuver back to the couch and see the perplexed look on her face.  Leaning over the armrest slightly she folded both legs to the side and, pulling them beneath her, settled upright once again.  
    “You’ll find I have a particular dislike of repeating myself...officer Piedmont, but once again, I don’t understand.  In light of what you’ve told me, why were you charged with attempted murder and, not to sound cold, what evidence was there to back up such a charge?”
    He smiled at her and laughed, regretting it immediately as her face became a full-blown scowl. 
    “I’m sorry, Mrs. McKenny,” he said, trying to look contrite.  “I was laughing at your dislike, not your very good question. At the risk of carrying an analogy too far, what was the most effective weapon used by the cheerleaders you mentioned?” 
    “Rumor,” she replied without hesitation. “You can’t disprove them and hell, half the time you’re not sure who’s spreading them and...” 
    “And after awhile,” he broke in, looking straight at her, “it doesn’t matter because they take on a life of their own.”  Oliver glanced at his watch; suddenly aware he’d been out of radio contact with PG base for almost an hour. 
    “I need to call in to my office, Mrs. McKenny, if that’s all right?” He scooted to the couch’s edge.  She seemed to hear him only after a few seconds passed, then jumped up, embarrassed. 
    “Umm...sure, I'll just get us something to drink.”  Pulling her shorts with a quick little tug, she walked down the hall toward what appeared to be the kitchen.
     
    “Yeah Tom, everything’s fine.  Just having a heart to heart with Mrs. McKenny.”  He could hear her puttering around the in kitchen, the way everyone did it seemed and a moment later, heard the high pitched whistle of escaping steam along with an accompanying gurgle. 
    “Yeah, Yeah.  I Should be back into the station in half an hour or so...Yeah... sure, ok...see you then."
    He ended the call and returned his cell to its leather pouch on his belt, then stood waiting for her to return.  When she did not, he walked toward the kitchen and the clinking of china.  Turning a corner, he found a steaming espresso being held out to him.
    “I’m afraid I should have offered this when you first came in, Detective Peidmont, I...” She seemed about to go on, but nothing followed.  Her face was a mixture of embarrassment and searching.
    “Three cups of coffee during lunch would have nixed that, Mrs. McKenny,” he lied, accepting the small demitasse cup.
    “Please call me Jenny,” her eyes finally met his.
    Her request was genuine, he saw and taking a sip of the steaming black liquid, he broke another one of his personal rules.
    “Oliver,” he said extending one hand while balancing his cup and saucer with the other.  He found her hand surprisingly cool as they exchanged a polite little handshake.  
    She sat down on the opposite side of the small kitchen island, pulling out an unseen stool and motioned for him to do the same.  She waited till he was settled before speaking. 
    “So why were you charged with attempted murder?” 
    “I wasn’t initially,” he said, setting down his