[To Die For 01] - A View to Die For (2012) Read Online Free PDF

of those businesses were gone – run out of town by a new SuperMart in a newer part of town. Now the stores were either boarded up or selling junk they called antiques.
    When I entered the building, I half expected to see either Andy or Barney sitting at a big oak desk. But the inside was as modern as any police station I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve been in a lot of police stations, but I’ve seen my share on television. I went up to the glass window separating the good citizens of Truman from their protectors. “Hi, my name is Jake Martin. Is Sergeant Bennet in?” I asked a pretty bleached-blond clerk, who sat behind the glass.
    She sized me up through the window, and then spoke: “He’s busy right now. Can I help you?”
    “The sergeant left me a message at the hospital to come in and see him. I was in an accident the day before yesterday. I think he has my wallet.”
    “Can I see some identification, please?” she asked without the slightest sign of how absurd her question was.
    “It’s in my wallet,” I answered. “That’s why I’m here. Driver’s license, credit cards, and all my money are in my wallet.”
    “I can’t let you in without any ID,” she said, reaching for a phone on her desk. “But if you want to wait, I’ll let him know you’re here.”
    She waited for me to take a seat at a bench across from her window before speaking into the receiver. I assumed whatever she had to say to the sergeant was not meant for my ears. The bench was either from a church remodel, or it was intended to put the fear of God in me. The back was straight and hard – just like the pews that used to keep me awake during Sunday service. It didn’t work.
    “Can I help you?” I must have dozed off while waiting. I didn’t hear or see the deputy approach.
    “I need to see Sergeant Bennet,” I replied, noting the weird resemblance to Don Knotts.
    “I’m Sergeant Bennet,” he said, extending a hand. “How are you feeling?”
    “A little sore and a killer headache. Thanks for asking,” I said, returning the handshake.
    “Heard you almost met your maker. Lucky you had your seat belt on. I hate to tell you how many tickets I give out around here to people who won’t wear them. We could use you for a poster child. Speaking metaphorically, that is. I can see you’re not a child.”
    ‘Metaphorically?’ Now there was a word I didn’t expect to hear in these parts. Be careful what I say, I thought, this guy is no Barney Fife.
    He led me to a seat by an empty desk, and he took the desk chair. There were three other desks crammed into the old room, and they were empty. “I was the officer at your accident,” he said, motioning for me to sit. “I just need to ask you a few questions so I can finish my report.”
    The chair was as hard as the pew in the waiting room. It was one of those old, straight-back office chairs with a padded seat – except the seat on this chair was long gone, leaving only a few tacks left to assure a thorough interrogation. “They tell me at the hospital that you rescued my dog. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”
    “No problem. I had a Golden myself when I was a kid. Best dogs in the world,” he smiled. It was the first sign that he might be human after all. “I would have taken him home until you could pick him up. But it looked like he might have been hurt, so I dropped him off at the vet’s. Doctor said it’s just a few bruises, and he should recover in a couple days.”
    “I still can’t thank you enough, Sergeant. The old guy means a lot to me.”
    “By the way, you might want this back,” he said as he opened his desk drawer and removed my wallet. “I took it from the scene of your accident, so I could identify you. It was empty except for a couple credit cards and your driver’s license. You should be able to pay Doctor Alton with one of those.”
    I could see my money had been removed even before I picked it up. “I had over a thousand in cash,