Lou Mason Mystery - 01 - Motion to Kill Read Online Free PDF Page B

powerboats, like the skiers use. Can’t stand ‘em—they’re too loud and they scare the fish off.”
    “Can you describe the people you saw?”
    “She was a long-legged blonde. Busty and crawlin’ all over him like ants at a picnic. He was one of the regulars. I couldn’t see him too well, but I recognized him from all the times I seen him here. Jockey size and suckin’ in his gut tryin’ to look sharp.”
    “Did they come back?”
    “Just her. Maybe an hour later. She was here and gone.”
    Velma didn’t remember anything else. Kelly thanked her for the coffee and her help, gave her a business card, and told her to call if she remembered something more. They tried the rest of the units. No one else had seen the blonde or her jockey-sized companion.
    “Sullivan fits the description of the man Velma saw,” Kelly said as they drove back to Buckhorn. “Does Cara Trent fit the description of the woman?”
    “As much as any good-looking blonde.”
    “Why was Sullivan staying at the hotel if he and his wife had a house at the lake, and he and O’Malley owned that condo?”
    “The retreat is supposed to build camaraderie. Can’t do that if we don’t all stay in the same place.”
    “Maybe, but so far it doesn’t sound like Sullivan spent much time in his room. Do you suppose that Victor O’Malley knew that Sullivan used their condo to cheat on his wife?”
    Mason wasn’t surprised that Kelly kept changing the subject. He used the same technique when questioning a witness. It kept the witness from getting too comfortable with the questions.
    “I don’t suppose anything, but O’Malley doesn’t strike me as someone who would care.”
    “So why would O’Malley want Sullivan dead?”
    “You don’t give up, do you? You can’t decide whether to arrest everyone in the firm or everyone the firm represents.”
    “People get killed for a lot of reasons, including not telling the police what they need to know soon enough to save themselves.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” Mason said.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    They drove in silence the rest of the way to the hotel. Kelly parked her truck in the circle drive at the hotel entrance and got out.
    “You don’t have to come in,” Mason told her. “I’ll get the firm directory from my room and bring it to you.”
    “I’m more interested in Sullivan’s room. And I’ve got the key.”
    “Don’t you need a warrant to search his room?”
    “Not if you let me in. Do you want the hotel maids to throw away any firm files Sullivan may have brought with him?”
    Mason knew that Kelly could have asked Pamela Sullivan or the hotel manager to let her in. Neither would have refused. His refusal would only add to her suspicion that he was holding back information. He realized that she wanted to see his reaction to anything they found in Sullivan’s room. Mason had spent the day reacting to events beyond his control, hoping to nudge the investigation away from O’Malley. It was like trying to hold back a rising river with a single sandbag.
    They stopped at his room first, and he gave Kelly the firm directory. It listed every employee’s name, direct-dial number, cell phone number, and e-mail address.
    “Here’s your list of suspects.”
    “Well, I can cross off one name.”
    “Whose?”
    “Sullivan’s. I don’t think he committed suicide.”
    “That’s very funny for a sheriff.”
    “Wait until you hear my good material.”
    She sounded coy, which confused Mason. He studied her for a clue. She offered none. She cycled through the good cop, bad cop routine so often that he thought she might be schizophrenic. If she was trying to keep him off balance, she was succeeding. Kelly was smart and attractive and gave fleeting suggestions that she liked him—all of which he could succumb to if she gave him a chance. But he knew that she’d put his head on a pike outside the village gates if she thought he was involved in Sullivan’s murder.
    She led the way to