Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 05 - Trouble on the Doorstep Read Online Free PDF Page A

whispered. “What does it mean?”
    “I don’t know. Did you see the letter?” I gestured that she should sit on the loveseat.
    She nodded. “I opened it. He thought it meant something, and I thought it was a joke. I said he should go.” Her eyes began to fill with tears again.
    “It’s not your fault,” I said, automatically. “Where was the letter mailed from? Was it signed?”
    “It was one of those, like, red stamp things businesses use, but it was smudged. We looked.”
    If she says ‘like’ again I’ll tape her mouth shut .
    “Get your purse,” I said. “And your phone, but don’t turn it on until you give it to the police.”
    “I’m not…”
    “Yes, you are. Or you’re going to hike out of here.”
    She stared at me, eyes welling again.
    “No tears. Just do it.” I tried to sound stern, and it didn’t take much effort. I sensed most people let Pooki get away with whatever she wanted when the floodgates opened. Not me.
    She turned and almost stomped up the stairs. I let the dogs in and picked up my purse and keys from the oak kitchen table. “Okay, this time you do get a treat.”
    Pooki came downstairs carrying her still-wet clothes, and I handed her a plastic garbage bag. We walked to my car in silence and she didn’t say a word during the short ride to the Ocean Alley Police Station.
    When I parked she asked, “Can you, like, tell them to come out and get me?”
    “It’s life, not TV. No one knows you’re here. Come on.”
    Sullen attitude firmly in place, she followed me through the glass door into the small station lobby. “We need to see Sgt. Morehouse,” I said to the officer on duty.
    “He’s pretty busy. Can I help you?” the man asked. I didn’t think I’d met him, and I knew most of the small force. He was in his early twenties, and I judged him to be new not just because of his age but because it looked as if he’d ironed the sleeves of his uniform.
    I jerked my head toward Pooki. “I have one of the reasons.” He stared at me, uncertain what I meant. “This is Pooki Morton.” Still nothing.
    “Eric Morton’s wife,” she said.
    “What in the hell is this?” Sgt. Morehouse must have been just the other side of the door that led into the office area, and he had pushed the button to unlock it before the desk clerk did. He fumed his way into the small lobby. “In here, both of youse.”
    I knew he was really mad. He rarely reverts to his native Jersey speak. I gestured that Pooki should go before me, and both of us followed him toward the small conference room I knew to be down the hall.
    “Tortino,” he yelled. “We got the wife.”
    Lieutenant Tortino looked out of his office and his eyebrows shot up. “I should have known,” he said, looking at me.
     
    LUCKILY, POOKI had burst into tears right about then, so Morehouse and Tortino had to calm her down and give her tissues and coffee. That gave Morehouse a chance to get that I’d done him a favor of sorts, and he and Officer Dana Johnson listened to Pooki between her gulps, with me filling in with what little I knew. Lt. Tortino had gone to call her parents.
    I was out of there in fifteen minutes, without the usual warning to mind my own business. My phone chirped.
    “Where the heck are you?” Scoobie asked.
    “Just dropped Pooki with Morehouse and crew,” I said.
    “Excuse me? I go looking for information for you and you already got her out of here?”
    I heard Miss Piggy’s yip in the background. “Sorry. I told her the radio said Steve Oliver had gotten some kind of warning letter and she said Eric did, too. That was it for me.”
    “Good riddance,” he said. “Except I’m sorry for Bill.”
    “Me too,” I said, wondering if his brother’s death would bring Bill Oliver back to Ocean Alley. I wanted to see what he knew. What the heck is wrong with me?
    “I’m problem-free,” I said.
    “I don’t think so. You’re going to have to deal with George.”

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    EVERYONE I SAW