Hard Fall: A gripping, noir detective thriller (Thomas Blume series of Hard-Boiled Mysteries, Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

inside. I came to the end of the road, keeping my eyes on her in the rearview. I turned the car and wound back through the street. I maintained a comfortable speed, not wanting to draw her attention.
     
    As I passed her house, I was able to see her again, but only from the same side as before. I was pretty sure I had never seen this woman before.
     
    So then what the hell does she want with me?
     
    It was a good question, but I wasn’t going to press it tonight. If she was somehow afraid to speak to me, I certainly didn’t want to go up to her door and ring the bell. I passed her house, taking note of the numbers on her mailbox and the name of the street. As I did, my mind began to form the most basic semblance of a plan.
     
    Halfway back to my apartment I decided that some mental lubrication might help stitch a plan together.
     
    ***
     
    I managed to stay mostly responsible…meaning that there was no hangover the following morning, or maybe there was already so much poison in my body that I couldn’t notice anymore. I was tired though. I wasted very little time, sipping coffee and eating a fried egg as I typed the address from last night into a database that I frequently used but was not supposed to have access to. The software was similar to a Police database but offered forensic investigators, or individuals with enough cash access to a frightening array of information data mined from online purchases, credit card transactions, and government records.
     
    I discovered quickly that the house belonged to a woman named Elizabeth Ellington. The name rang no bells, and as I replayed the events of the last two nights, a startling thought occurred to me: Anthony Taylor’s suicide now seemed like something that had happened in a faraway place.
     
    It’s because I’m getting active again, I thought. Re-opening my family’s case and trying to solve my own little mystery. I feel…almost like a cop again.
     
    It was a good feeling. I clung to it as tightly as I could. It was all I had.
     
    It was still there when I took a shower and even more powerful when I headed down to Amir’s restaurant an hour later to catch him half an hour before he opened.
     
    He poured us coffee which we drank at his ritzy little bar while his staff readied the place for the early lunch crowd.
     
    Again, Amir didn’t waste his time asking me if I had been drinking over the last few days. I assumed he saw a still-developing change in me. We shared some small talk — about the damned rain and how the police had not returned to ask me more questions about Anthony — before I got around to the real reason I had come by.
     
    “So, I get that this is a large town,” I said. “Very large. But I also know that you run a very successful business and are one of the friendliest men I have ever known.”
     
    “Why are you buttering me up?” Amir asked with a raised eyebrow. His black bushy hair and dark brows giving him a fierce appearance belying his amiable nature.
     
    “No butter. Just pretext,” I said.
     
    “For what?”
     
    “I was wondering if you might happen to know a woman named Elizabeth Ellington.”
     
    Amir gave me a skeptical look. “It just so happens that I do. At least on paper. Several papers in fact, she’s quite well known in local circles. Why do you ask?”
     
    “Can you keep it confidential?” I asked.
     
    “Yeah…as long as you haven’t done anything you shouldn’t.”
     
    “No. Nothing like that.” I mumbled, wondering what kind of man he took me for. I then proceeded to tell him about the events of the last three nights. As I came to the end of it — following her to her home and getting the address — he seemed puzzled.
     
    “What?” I asked, noticing his look.
     
    “Elizabeth Ellington is sort of a legend around here. She’s a recluse…a shut-in. The only time people see her around is late at night, when she goes grocery shopping at those twenty-four hour shops. She’s been that