E is for Evidence Read Online Free PDF

my way in. They’ll have prints for me by noon. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Lance Wood or the fire chief yet.”
    â€œI’ll tell Mac,” she said, her tone cool.
    Oh well, I thought. She’s never been a pal of mine anyway.
    As there was no slot or box where unspecified hunches could be typed in, I kept my report completelyneutral. When I finished, I rolled it out of the machine, signed it, dated it, and set it aside. I had an hour before I could pick up the photographs, so I cleaned up the sketch of the warehouse layout and attached that to the report with a paper clip.
    The phone rang. This time it was Andy. “Could you step into Mac’s office for a few minutes?”
    I quelled my irritation, thinking it best not to sass the CFI claims manager. “Sure, but I won’t have the pictures for another hour yet.”
    â€œWe understand that. Just bring what you’ve got.”
    I hung up, gathered up the report and the sketch, locked the office behind me, and went next door. What’s this “we” shit? I thought.
    The minute I stepped into Mac’s office, I knew something was wrong. I’ve known Maclin Voorhies since I started working for California Fidelity nearly ten years ago. He’s in his sixties now, with a lean, dour face. He has sparse gray hair that stands out around his head like dandelion fuzz, big ears with drooping lobes, a bulbous nose, and small black eyes under unruly white brows. His body seems misshapen: long legs, short waist, narrow shoulders, arms too long for the average sleeve length. He’s smart, capable, stingy with praise, humorless, and devoutly Catholic, which translates out to a thirty-five-year marriage and eight kids, all grown. I’ve never seen him smoke a cigar, buthe’s usually chewing on a stub, the resultant tobacco stains tarnishing his teeth to the color of old toilet bowls.
    I took my cue not so much from his expression, which was no darker than usual, but from Andy’s, standing just to his left. Andy and I don’t get along that well under the best of circumstances. At forty-two, he’s an ass-kisser, always trying to maneuver situations so that he can look good. He has a moonshaped face and his collar looks too tight and everything else about him annoys me, too. Some people just affect me that way. At that moment he seemed both restless and smug, studiously avoiding eye contact.
    Mac was leafing through the file. He glanced over at Andy with impatience. “Don’t you have some work to do?”
    â€œWhat? Oh sure. I thought you wanted me in this meeting.”
    â€œI’ll take care of it. I’m sure you’re overloaded as it is.”
    Andy murmured something that made it sound like leaving was his big idea. Mac shook his head and sighed slightly as the door closed. I watched him roll the cigar stub from one corner of his mouth to the other. He looked up with surprise, as if he’d just realized I was standing there. “You want to fill me in on this?”
    I told him what had transpired to date, sidestepping the fact that the file had sat on Darcy’s desk for three days before it came to me. I wasn’t necessarily protecting her. In business, it’s smarter not to badmouth the help. I told him I had two rolls of film coming in, that there weren’t any estimates yet, but the claim looked routine as far as I could see. I debated mention of my uneasiness, but discarded the idea even as I was speaking. I hadn’t identified what was bothering me and I felt it was wiser to stick to the facts.
    The frown on Mac’s face formed about thirty seconds into my recital, but what alarmed me was the silence that fell when I was done. Mac is a man who fires questions. Mac gives pop quizzes. He seldom sits and stares as he was doing in this case.
    â€œYou want to tell me what this is about?” I asked.
    â€œDid you see the note attached to the front of this