Terry Odell - Mapleton 01 - Deadly Secrets Read Online Free PDF

went into the woods. He was wearing sunglasses. And I’m not sure I’d recognize him from this picture anyway. All the blood.”
    “Don’t think about that for now. You said you’d followed him for some time. Close your eyes. Think about it. What did you notice? Was he alone in the car?”
    She took a deep breath, as if she were preparing to jump into the swimming hole outside of town. With her eyes closed, she worried her lower lip again before speaking. “I’d say, yes, he was alone. He never seemed to be talking to someone else. I remember noticing the Florida plates, assumed he was a retiree. Maybe because he was bald, but that’s silly. Guys can go bald at almost any age.”
    Gordon rubbed the top of his head, thankful he wasn’t one of them. “True enough. But those kinds of impressions might be based on more than lack of hair. The way he stood, walked, might have played a part.”
    She picked up the picture, squinting at it as if she could see the living man under the corpse.
    “I don’t know, Gordon.” Her eyes widened. “Please, don’t tell me I have to identify the body.”
    “That won’t be necessary.” He smiled at the relief on her face. “But there is one more question.” Trying to read her, he set the real reason he’d insisted on seeing her on the desk. “Any idea why he had these?”

 
###
 
    Megan cast a slow, scrutinizing look at Gordon. His features seemed rigid, almost expressionless. He was being a cop, she realized. A recently promoted police chief, no less. Not the old friend who had walked with her in the woods a short time ago. He caught her gaze. Held it. Pushed the papers a little closer. She picked up the first one. People. Mostly faces. Blurred and grainy. She looked more closely.
    Her stomach churned. This wasn’t a gory crime scene picture, but she swallowed, concentrating on keeping Rose’s cookies and apple cake where they belonged.
    “You found this on the dead man?” She dropped the page as if it were on fire.
    “In an envelope in the car. That’s a copy.”
    The faces belonged to her. All the pictures were of her.
    She shoved the page aside and looked at the second sheet. No pictures on this one, but in neat, block letters—Rose and Sam’s address and phone number. And below that, some handwriting, barely legible. Gingerly, she picked up the paper and tried to decipher the faint scrawl.
    Use the kid. They’ll talk.
    Realizing her hands were shaking, she let the page float to the desk. “What does it mean?”
    “I was hoping you could tell me.”
    “Have you asked Rose and Sam? Maybe there’s a simple explanation.”
    “I wanted to ask you first.”
    “Well, you asked. I don’t know who the dead guy is, who Karl Franklin is, or why he would have these pictures.”
    “Any idea where he got them?”
    Reluctantly, she studied the pictures again, trying to ignore the creep factor. The quality was low, but recognition hit. “They’re from the company website. A quick trip through Google, click ‘Print’ and there they are.” She squinted. “It might be easier to tell on the original, but it looks like these were actually cut and pasted—with scissors and glue—onto a page, and then photocopied.”
    Gordon raised his eyebrows. She caught a glimmer of surprise and appreciation in his eyes. He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a large manila envelope. Propping it open, he peered inside, then extracted a clear plastic sleeve. He placed it on the desk. After repositioning his desk lamp, he dipped into another drawer and pulled out a large magnifying glass.
    “You really use that? It’s not a Sherlock Holmes thing?”
    Some of the friend showed through as he gave her an amused grin. “We’re a little more advanced here, but sometimes the basics work just fine.” Holding the glass to his eye, he scrutinized the pictures. “I think you’re right.”
    “Which doesn’t answer the question of what the paper means.” She tried to think of some