Ruthless Game (A Captivating Suspense Novel) Read Online Free PDF

started to shake her head when he said, "You didn't have it on in the car either."
    She blinked hard and forced the earring into her ear before turning her back to Greg. "Damn thing is always falling off," she lied. She knew the earring hadn't been in her pocket. She'd never put it there. She never even took the earrings off. She slept in them, ran, showered, everything. She must've knocked it off in the struggle with the perp, and it had just gotten stuck in her clothes or her hair. She was amazed that she hadn't lost it.
    Someone knocked on the door and Alex turned to see Ramona Quay peering in through the glass.
    "I'll handle it," Alex said, heading for the door.
    The housekeeper's eyes were wide, her hands now red from wringing them together. "Is he going to be all right?"
    She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Quay."
    The woman dropped her hands to her sides and began sobbing. Thankful to have someone else to worry about, Alex led the woman down to the car.
    With the patrol car door open, she seated Mrs. Quay on the passenger side. She found a package of tissues next to Greg's breath mints in the glove compartment and gave her a handful of them.
    Alex took out her notebook and pen. "I need to get some information from you."
    "How... how did it happen?" the woman asked, her large nose bending almost in half as she wiped it with a tissue. Her eyes seemed suddenly droopier as tears ran down her cheeks, creating little pink lines in her dry skin.
    Putting the notebook down, Alex squatted on the curb in front of her. "We're not sure yet."
    "What do you mean, not sure?"
    "We'll have to do some checking before we know what killed him." The fact that a close-range shot appeared to have almost detached his head from his body was a likely explanation for his death, but Alex kept that to herself. The police had good reasons for not disclosing the cause of death. Even if not a suspect, Mrs. Quay could become a material witness. She may have seen something or known someone who wanted Loeffler dead. And for that reason, they needed to talk to her before she found out anything about the crime scene. Plus, who knew how the woman would take it, and Alex didn't need anyone having a coronary on her.
    "He had a very good heart," she said. "He was in very good shape. Always ran downtown and stopped for a bagel and ran home—every morning."
    Alex nodded. "I don't think it was his heart, Mrs. Quay. I believe someone wanted him dead. Can you think of who might want to hurt him?"
    She shook her head quickly. "I can't believe. Mr. Loeffler."
    Alex listened while Mrs. Quay expressed disbelief at the demise of her employer. But the woman couldn't offer any clue as to who might have wanted to kill him. "No, he was a good man. No one would do this to him."
    As Alex turned, an olive green Chevrolet as old as she was pulled to the curb. It was Detective Lombardi's. "It's a one of a kind," he always bragged.
    When Lombardi stopped by the patrol car, Alex excused herself from Mrs. Quay. As he surveyed the area, his eyes looked small and beady like an animal's. Instead of walking, Lombardi lumbered, moving the way an elephant grazed, heavy and slow.
    A black trench coat that looked as though it had been through a gang war hung over his broad shoulders. It had a bullet hole in the right shoulder where he'd been shot once, and another midway down the right side where he had shot at someone from his pocket. Like a medal of honor, he wore the coat day in and day out, no matter what the weather. He once came to the station with a pair of swim shorts beneath it.
    At the academy, she had heard cop stories like this one. Lombardi considered the coat his protective shield, and wearing it, he felt invincible.
    "Up here?" Lombardi asked, motioning toward the stairs.
    She nodded. The crime scene van pulled behind her squad car, and a team of three investigators, carrying large black plastic cases, emerged from the van.
    Lombardi moved past her and waved for the crime