Meter Maids Eat Their Young Read Online Free PDF Page A

had interrogated her for several hours over the incident. Even if they hadn’t come, she said, she would have remembered it. The guy who called had sounded a lot like James Earl Jones, she claimed, and he wanted the pizza delivered to the security desk at the Admin building, which she had done. She couldn’t give me a good description of who paid for it but assured me the guy didn’t look at all like James Earl Jones.James Earl Jones was the voice of Darth Vader.
    As the news spread about the Monorail meters, the protesters were gathering for yet another celebration. A news van pulled up as I was passing by. Making a mental note to check out CARPE again, I turned down a side street to avoid the slowing traffic. A moment later I pulled into my driveway.

Tossing Catnip Bags At Kitty Ghosts
    In the kitchen, I poured the last of the coffee from the French Press and set the mug in the microwave. While it irradiated, I rummaged through the junk drawer until I found the list of meeting times and places. Just my luck, there was one that evening at the church down the street from my house. So much for finding an excuse to put it off again. Higher Power works in mysterious ways.
    The microwave dinged. I shoved the papers back in the drawer and slammed it shut, grabbed the cup of coffee, added some Stevia and milk, and headed toward the front of the house.
    Halfway through the living room I noticed the call light was blinking on the answering machine. I hate phones in general, and landlines in particular, but it came with the house and I’d never shut it down. I did put an answering machine on it to fend off the telemarketers. I’m glad now I kept it. Somehow the Meter Mangler had found the number and had been leaving me cryptic little bits of information and egging me on. He was using a synthesized voice that sounded a lot like Darth Vader with a head cold. Or James Earl Jones with a head cold.
    I pushed ‘rewind’. The first two messages were for a backyard pool and a life insurance policy I could take out despite my advancing years. I deleted those. The last was from the Mangler.
    â€œI did not kill Harrison de Whitt. Find the answer to why I must exist and you’ll find the answer to who killed him. Follow the money, Teller. It’s always about the money.”
    I played the tape three times and then popped the tape out and put in a fresh one. Follow the money. That was the overriding scheme of the Watergate affair. What the hell could it mean here? Follow the money? What money?
    Shaking my head, I walked out onto the porch and found Jaz sitting in one of the chairs.
    â€œTeller,” she said.
    â€œJaz.”
    â€œLook, Teller, I’m sorry for the way I acted this morning. It was out of line. I was just … just stressed out and I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night and then that early morning call and finding out Harrison de Whitt had been murdered. I’m just really sorry. I know he was your friend.”
    â€œYou knew him, didn’t you?”
    â€œWell, yeah, a little,” she said, looking away as she said it. Skeeter came to mind, and her insistence the vampire was a girl.
    â€œHe was a council member and a major pain in the ass for my boss,” she continued. “Always a good thing as far as I’m concerned.”
    â€œYeah, I knew the DPE was on his radar screen but he was keeping it close to the bone. Wouldn’t tell me what it was about, even off the record. Said he wasn’t ready for the news to break,” I said.
    â€œDo you think the Mangler killed him?”
    I debated telling her what Marion had told me and decided it couldn’t hurt. The news would come out sooner or later anyway. “Not according to the CSI guys. Harrison was killed somewhere else and his body dumped in the parking lot as much as an hour before the Mangler even showed up. At the moment, there’s no official connection between the Mangler and