State's Evidence: A Beverly Mendoza Legal Thriller Read Online Free PDF Page A

a
shiver.
    “You won’t believe it,” Grant said evasively.
“A real shocker! Hurry up!”
    “All right, just a minute.”
    Her curiosity piqued, Beverly went into the
hall, glancing once at Jaime’s closed door before moving towards
the sunken living room. She’d purchased the single-level patio home
nine years ago, right after passing the bar. It was in a beautiful
old Eagles Landing neighborhood, separated somewhat from other
homes by coastal redwood and lodgepole pine trees.
    Grabbing the remote off the rustic log coffee
table, Beverly pointed it at the flat screen plasma TV.
    A female anchor, Nancy Novak, stared
dramatically at the screen, while stating painfully, “In a recap of
our breaking story, Superior Court Judge Sheldon Crawford was shot
to death at his home tonight.” Beverly’s heart sank. “His wife,
Maxine Crawford, was rushed to the hospital. No word yet on her
condition. The assailant is apparently still on the loose and
considered armed and dangerous—”
     

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    He came in the back door of the duplex,
hoping to avoid the usual confrontation with his old lady that
seemed to be the story of his life these days. His clothes were wet
and muddy. There was even some blood on his pants.
    Damn!
    He stepped into the kitchen and went over to
the sink. He could hear the TV upstairs and figured it was safe to
try and clean himself up a bit.
    But she would never let him off that
easily.
    “Where were you?” The voice blared out of the
shadows like a sonic boom.
    He jumped, though wishing he hadn’t, and
faced her as she came into full view. A scowl ran the length of her
olive face. Her dark blonde hair was worn in a layered bob, and a
floral purple nightgown hung on wide hips.
    “Out,” he said simply.
    She moved closer, eyeing him suspiciously.
“What the... You look like hell! Where have you been? ”
    “At the lake.” It was true, in part. The rest
she was better off not knowing, for her own sake.
    “You’ve got dirt all over you,” she spat,
giving him the once over with narrowed chocolate eyes. “What the
hell happened?”
    He sniffed. The smell of death was repugnant
even to him. “You don’t really wanna know.”
    Her gaze rested on the dark red spots on his
jeans. “You’re bleeding.”
    He wiped at his pants self-consciously. “It
ain’t no big deal.”
    She refused to leave it alone. Slapping a
hand on her hip, she demanded, “What have you done, Manuel?”
    “I ain’t done nothin’!” She was starting to
piss him off—sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. One of these
days, he just might have to cut it off and shove it down her damned
throat.
    She glared at him. “That’s your blood,
isn’t it?”
    He had to think fast. He sure as hell
couldn’t tell her the truth and nothing but the truth. If
something went wrong, she could testify against him. Couldn’t she?
He’d heard that even a married woman could squeal on her husband,
if she had her mind made up to do so.
    And knowing his old lady, her mind might
already be made up if he confided in her.
    He smiled at her crookedly. “It’s fish blood.
I told you I was at the lake. Thought I’d reel in some dinner for
you, baby. Things got a little rough out there, but I stuck with
it.”
    She darted her eyes from side to side with
serious misgiving. “So where’s the fish?”
    “Out in the car,” he told her. “I just hadn’t
gotten ‘round to bringing it in. If you don’t believe me, go see
for yourself!”
    Her nostrils ballooned. “If you’re
lying...”
    “I’m not,” he insisted boldly. “Check it out.
Save me a trip to the car. I’ll go clean up and then fry it for
you.”
    As he expected, she gave him the benefit of
the doubt, dragging her lazy, ass back upstairs without another
word. He would drop by the market and pick up some fish. She’d
never know the difference.
    Bitch .
    His secret was safe for now. Maybe forever,
if he had his way, like the others.
    He opened the fridge