The Coldest Fear Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    Jack called Liddell from Alamo’s rental office inside the airport.
    â€œThe red Toyota I found in the parking lot was paid for by a guy named Jonathan Samuels,” Jack said. “Same post-office box number in Shawneetown, Illinois, as our victim. Are you back at headquarters?”
    â€œYeah,” Liddell said. “I’m running Cordelia Morse through the system. Whoever killed her wasn’t after money. There was almost three thousand dollars in twenty-dollar bills in the purse.”
    â€œThe injuries weren’t to hide her identity,” Jack said.
    â€œYeah,” Liddell agreed.
    â€œCheck her out with narcotics,” Jack said.
    â€œYou think she was dealing?” Liddell asked.
    â€œShe left her own car behind at Alamo when she picked up the Toyota,” Jack said. “There was a small bag of marijuana tucked under the driver’s seat.”
    â€œBut not three grand worth?”
    â€œNo,” Jack admitted. “But it’s possible she was going to buy drugs and use the rental car to transport. That would keep her personal car free from possibly being seized by the government if she were caught.”
    â€œSo it could be a drug deal gone bad?” Liddell asked.
    Jack didn’t think someone would go to the extremes that were evident in the death of Cordelia Morse for three thousand dollars. And then not even take the money. Something else was going on here.
    â€œI don’t have a clue yet, but when I get it all figured out I’ll let you take all the credit as usual, Bigfoot,” Jack said with a smile.
    â€œYou are so good to me,” Liddell said.
    â€œI found something else,” Jack said, becoming serious again. “There was a business card for one of the Bange brothers. Lenny Bange. It was on the floor of her rental car.”
    â€œBange, Bange, Bange,” Liddell said. He was very familiar with the three brothers. All were attorneys and ran a lucrative practice in the downtown area.
    â€œRun Lenny Bange and Jonathan Samuels of Shawneetown, Illinois, too,” Jack said.
    â€œI’m running down the names of people who stayed at the hotel last night and calling them. Is there anything else you’d like me to do? Like maybe solve the world’s food-shortage problem, and bring about world peace while I’m not busy?”
    â€œThat would be nice, Bigfoot.”
    â€œSpeaking of food, where we going to eat?” Liddell asked.
    Jack felt a little hungry, too, but he wanted to keep going while he had something to work on. And Lenny Bange was the next lead. “I’ll grab a sandwich on my way to Lenny Bange’s office.”
    â€œI’ll order a pizza then,” Liddell said.
    Jack knew that meant two large kitchen-sink pizzas from Turoni’s were about to meet their death at the hands of the Cajun-ator.
    They hung up and Jack sat in his car looking at Lenny Bange’s card and the small plastic Baggie of marijuana. Room 316 at the Marriott, where Cordelia Morse was found hacked to death, had been paid for by a credit card. That card belonged to Lenny Bange. The car she had at the hotel was paid for by a man named Jonathan Samuels. Very curious, he thought. Cordelia Morse seemed to have a knack for getting guys to pay her bills.
    He wondered what other talents she had.

C HAPTER E IGHT
    Three uniformed officers stood in the hallway, guns drawn, expressions chiseled out of granite, as Jack and another officer stood on each side of the door to room 375. The killer would have to be stupid or suicidal to have left such a clue and then to hang around to be caught. But the fact was that room 316, where Cordelia Morse was found butchered, was at the opposite end of the hall from room 375. And the killer had carved the number 375 into her scalp.
    The fact that there was a dead body just down the hall necessitated a quick entry. There was no time to get a search warrant. And no need.
    Jack