Hide & Find (Mayfield Cozy Mystery Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

announced. Safe custody was paramount. I supposed there was a strong chance the boys would find a pinup calendar or two downstairs, and the odds were high it wouldn’t be their first time seeing such things, but in no way did I want to contribute to that kind of exploration.
    Clarice whipped the painting off the bed and deftly curled it back into a tidy roll. “There’s something else you should see.” She tipped her head toward the corner kitchen.
    Loretta scurried over and opened the cabinet door below the sink so I could peer inside. A smelly trash can. I wrinkled my nose.
    Then she pulled open the drawers and other doors in rapid succession. All the basics — silverware, a few cups and plates, a can opener, paring knives, a spatula, cans of soup and tuna, cracker boxes, tea bags.
    “Look at the labels,” Loretta whispered. “You know how packaging gets redesigned periodically? These look like what you can buy at any grocery store right now.”
    “And the garbage is fresh — relatively,” I murmured. “No other personal effects — clothes, sleeping bag?” I darted a quick glance at Clarice.
    She shook her head.
    “Could be some of the boys,” I ventured.
    “Walt would’ve known and put a stop to it — and made them clean up,” Clarice countered.
    “Dwayne?”
    “Too recent. Dwayne’s been eating us out of fridge and pantry for the past two weeks. He hasn’t had the mobility or the need to come cook up here by himself.”
    “Another squatter,” I sighed. “Probably not uncommon. At least it looks like he’s conscientious and neat. I’ll let Walt know, although now that we’re interrupting his hideout, our guest will probably move on. Could you pack his food in a box and set it near the door outside? He’s probably hungry, and I don’t want to take away what he most needs.”
    I made it out of the garage without garnering questions from any of the boys about the awkward bundle in my arms and set off on the trek to the mansion. It was crunchy and cold, and I didn’t have a free hand to wipe my dripping nose. I sniffed heartily and chuckled at a mixed flock of chickadees and juncos that fluttered ahead of me, keeping to the shrubby underbrush at the side of the rutted tracks and pecking at seed pods.
    A beat-up blue pickup was parked next to my new beat-up brown one — beat-up pickups being the ubiquitous form of transportation in May County. I grinned and picked up my pace — I knew the owner of this particular beat-up truck.
    Hank Gonzales slid out of the cab with a cell phone in his hand and a worried look on his face. “I’ve been trying to call you all day.”
    My heart stopped beating for a terrible moment, and I nearly dropped the paintings.
    My phones.
    In all the excitement about the prospect of demolition, I’d left my array of phones in my tote bag in my bedroom. What if Skip’s kidnappers had finally called with a ransom demand?

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 5
     
    After a hurried scrambling and checking for messages — there were none, although my heart kept pounding at the possibility for several more minutes — I settled Hank at the kitchen table and put water on for coffee. We both needed the sustenance.
    I didn’t have to explain my frantic behavior to Hank. He knew all about my missing husband and the enemies I’d made in trying to sort out Skip’s affairs. He’d even been shot by a local mob hireling as a scare tactic — a message for both of us that hadn’t been terribly effective. I mean the bullet had nearly killed Hank, but I was stubborn and kept on prying anyway.
    Hank was looking better, less feeble, closer to his original vigor and wiry strength. The new gray hairs among his jet black ones were probably here to stay, but his skin had less of the ashy pallor he’d come home from the hospital with. More pink and tan, signs of the resilience of his heart in pumping his blood around.
    Tears sprang to my eyes, and I leaned