Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 03 - A Deadly Change of Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

something down.  “Do you want to see the letter?” I asked.
    He either didn’t hear me , or he ignored my question.  He set the purse on the hood, moved to the windshield and cupped his hand over an area in the lower driver’s side to shade the sunlight.  He repeated the letters and numbers of the vehicle identification number as he wrote them down in his notebook.
    “The letter’s in the purse, in case you’re interested,” I reminded him.
    He squinted at me.  “I assume it’s in the purse.  You haven’t removed anything, have you?”
    “No.  I just didn’t want you to forget about — “
    “I won’t forget,” he interrupted.  “Did you find anything else unusual in the vehicle?”
    “No.  Just the purse,” I answered.
    “Not surprised.  They usually take these things apart and put them back together before they auction them off.  Guess no one ever thought to check inside the tires.”
    I stared at the purse on the hood.  “You think the drug dealer who owned this before I bought it killed Diane Parker?”
    Detective Wright rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “I told you before, her death was an accident.  She was jogging on the trails around Point Loma and got too close to the edge.  Happens once in a while.”
    I folded my arms across my chest.  “Then why would her purse wind up stashed inside the spare tire of a convicted drug dealer?  Sounds suspicious to me.”
    The big man snatched the purse off the hood.  “Look.  This is none of your concern.  It’s a police matter.  We’ve investigated the death of Diane Parker and concluded it was an accident.”
    He walked away and headed toward the doors of the station.  I followed.  “But now that you have new evidence, don’t you think you should re-open the investigation?”
    He stopped and glared at me.  “I’ll look at the contents of the purse and if I find anything suspicious, I’ll follow up on it.  Okay with you?” he snapped.
    I sensed that I irritated this man like a gnat fluttering around his face.  I didn’t care.  For some reason, I felt a kinship with Diane Parker, and I wanted justice for her.  I looked him square in the eye.  “I don’t think so.  You don’t seem sincere, Detective Wright.”
    A crevice formed in his brow between the deep-set brown eyes.  He stared down his chiseled nose at me, towering over my small frame.  I could see the muscles of his powerful jaws clench as he formulated his next sentence.  “I’ve never been more sincere in my entire life.  If Diane Parker was murdered, I’ll find out who did it.  Do not get in my way.  Do not tell me how to do my job.  And do not suppose that you are more qualified to get to the truth than I am.  Understand?”
    My neck felt the strain in its awkward position as my own muscles tensed.  I returned his glare.  “Would it be possible for me to see what you’ve come up with so far in your investigation?” I asked.
    He stared at me for a moment, then turned his gaze to the sky and let out a loud, boisterous laugh.  “That’s priceless!” he boomed.
    I remained serious.  “What’s so funny?” I asked.
    He flashed his straight white teeth at me in a grin so broad I could almost count his fillings.  “You don’t see the humor?  I think it’s funnier than heck.  Some little…I don’t know…whatever you are…comes bouncing in off the street and you think you can do a better job than the entire San Diego P olice D epartment.  It’s hilarious.”
    I felt my fingernails dig into the palms of my hands as my fists clenched.  “So can I see your report on Diane’s death?” I pressed.
    “No,” he barked, then walked off.
    I started after him.  “But — “
    “No, Miss Lace,” he repeated.
    “I just want to — “
    “No!  N-O!  No!  Are you deaf?”
    I stopped and watched him disappear through the doors into the police station.  My face felt hot and flushed.  “What a jerk,” I grumbled as I climbed