The Last Clinic Read Online Free PDF Page B

question. “Registration, insurance cards, some music.” Then he added with a country boy grin, “He had a couple of my CDs in the glove compartment.”
    “Anything else?”
    “Hum?” he said, as if his mind was somewhere else and he hadn’t heard her.
    He does a shit job of hiding his hand , she thought. He’d do worse at the poker table than Hugh, who looked like he was having sex every time he got a decent hand .
    “Anything unusual, is what I’m asking.”
    “Well, okay, sure.” Shuffle, shuffle. “The CSI guy found a plain white envelope marked Deposit in the glove compartment with three grand in it.”
    He held up a plastic bag containing the envelope so she could see the stack of bills, a good-sized wad.
    “Three grand?” she said, putting on a set of plastic gloves. This she wanted a look at right now.
    “Yeah. A donation from a church member is how we see it,” Tommy said offhand, as though the matter was settled.
    “I guess that’s one possibility.” She held her hands out. “Do you mind?”
    They were a couple of feet apart. He held the plastic bag a second longer than he should have, messing with her like a little kid. Maybe he was hoping she’d grab for it, but she didn’t. When she wouldn’t play along, he tossed it more or less in her direction, but a little to the right side, like he hoped she’d fumble around trying to catch it and look silly doing a guy thing.
    She snatched it in midair and smiled a little, not to make fun of Tommy, but thinking how Hugh would have applauded if he’d seen her make the catch.
    She opened the plastic, removed the envelope, and thumbed though the bills, not counting, but stopping briefly at various places, where something caught her attention.
    Tommy stood by looking uncomfortable, then glanced down at the sidewalk, saw a patch of weed breaking through a crack, and stubbed at it with his foot.
    “Three grand on the nose,” she said.
    “Two of us counted it. Just to be sure.”
    “A lot of little bills—fives, tens, twenties. No singles. Nothing larger than a twenty.”
    Tommy shrugged. “True,” he said, meaning so what.
    “Help me out here, Tommy. Wouldn’t you expect a contribution that large to be in the form of a check? For tax purposes?”
    Tommy hefted his pants over his belt line, the way a guy with a big gut will do when he’s trying to improve his appearance.
    “Could be from the collection plate. We have a large congregation. Peopled loved to hear Jimmy preach.”
    “That should be easy enough to check out.”
    Tommy came back quickly. “Maybe it’s private funds. It’s possible. Maybe he saved it and was going to buy something for the family. Anniversary. Graduation. Wife’s birthday. It could be lots of different things.”
    “It’s Monday morning. The envelope says ‘Deposit’. We can assume that’s what Reverend Aldridge had in mind. But there’s no deposit slip. Just a big chunk of dough.”
    “He might have forgot the deposit slip. All the stuff he had on his mind. That’s happened to me. Maybe he uses a slip at the bank. Maybe he was planning on opening an account later today.” Tommy’s voice was getting an edge.
    Darla considered the situation. Tommy was either a moron, he was purposely ignoring an important piece of evidence, or he was lying.
    “I guess you’re going to look into this?” said, knowing that he wasn’t. 
    “Down the road a piece I will. Right now, I got me uniformed officers knocking on doors. Finding out if anybody saw or heard anything.”
    Darla thumbed through the wad of bills again and again, stopping at various points and looking puzzled.
    “I’m going to work this now, while everything is fresh. All right?” She was not really asking, but trying to play nice, with Tommy being the mayor’s nephew and all.
    “You don’t think I know? Rule number one: Follow the money. That’s what you’re going to say, isn’t it? Follow the money. Like that reporter, what was his name, Bob