Malicious Mischief (A Rylie Keyes Mystery) (Entangled Select) Read Online Free PDF

chocolate moment coming up.”
    I swallowed hard. Trust Zach to realize I’d been struggling not to give up my Saturday night routine.
    “So before you reached the trestle, you were rear-ended, right?” Zach asked.
    “Uh-huh, but I was never more than a foot from the van. We exchanged information, made sure the back doors opened, then we left. I know what you’re thinking, but I stood at the bumper the entire time. I’d have noticed if the guy tossed in Otto’s body.”
    Short pause. “You said the accident happened on Lake Hills. What part?”
    Had he returned my call last night, he would have known. “Just before Richards,” I said.
    “Scary place,” Solo said. “Like I told Rylie earlier, my friend ran his car into a culvert there. He almost died.”
    Zach said nothing, his mouth tight. “What kind of deliveries?” he asked.
    “Food, Dragon Fresh,” I said. “The guy’s truck broke down. He worked late to finish up.”
    “Sounds to me like that was the first attempt on your life,” Solo said.
    My eyes bugged. “That’s crazy talk.”
    “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said in a feebly agreeable voice.
    “That’s everything, the entire night?” Zach asked.
    I nodded.
    “Hey,” Solo said. “I read that murder often comes down to love or money. Trace those things, you’ll find the killer.”
    “Those are good places to start,” I said, brightening.
    “Oh, hell no!” Zach said. “Leave this to Homicide. This is not Suicide Trestle, where jumpers rarely show. A man has been murdered.”
    “Two jumped last year,” Solo reminded him.
    Zach was not amused, his lips thin, eyes hard. “Listen to me. There is a murderer out there. Not only is it ridiculous, but insane to think you’ll do more than just make yourselves targets by asking questions.” He shot me a narrowed look, then moved to Solo and back to me again. “Let this go, both of you.”
    We fell into silence for a second time, Zach once again drumming his fingers, Solo chomping on licorice, and me staring out the window. I wanted a licorice stick, too, but held back. The thought of a wax-plug clogging up my colon creeped me out.
    The early morning traffic was light on the nearby freeway. The rain, now the usual Seattle spit, was hardly noticeable, yet drab and crushing. In the distance, Rosenberg Laboratory still looked dim and vacant.
    “Holy crud, what’s that smell?” Solo rummaged around. “Never mind, it’s me.”
    “Come on, man, light a match. Forget it, you’ve done that already. I need air.” Zach climbed from the squad car.
    “It was only my shoe. It slipped off my foot,” Solo said nonplussed, but grinning.
    That got a laugh out of me as I joined Zach outside. With our backs against the car, we waited. The last vestiges of streetlights were blinking off in the full morning light when several squad cars arrived, followed by a fire engine and an EMT wagon.
    Fire Engine #16 bumped over the curb and drove into the field with its diesel engine rumbling. I had gone to middle school with the firefighter riding shotgun. Curtis Hobbs had been my first kiss. Tranquilizing warmth had flowed over me the moment our lips touched, while he’d asked me to open up my mouth more. Everyone is a critic .
    “Showtime,” Zach said and headed to meet the gathering officers.
    I climbed back inside the squad car, surrendering to a fistful of licorice as the crime scene took shape. The ME’s wagon finally arrived, bringing with it a big-ass tow-truck. I had expected to see Granddad’s old partner Detective Alistair Barclay inspecting the scene. What I saw was Officer Karl Lipschitz playing detective in street clothes, a badge clipped to his belt, a notebook in hand.
    At twenty-seven, Lipschitz wore his whitish hair like an overturned salad bowl and was a sick piece of work, vengefully speaking. After I’d repeatedly turned him down for a date in high school, he’d dogged my every move until his graduation that same year. To