Wicked Is the Whiskey: A Sean McClanahan Mystery (Sean McClanahan Mysteries Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

as far as I’m concerned, the Preston case is pretty clear — regardless of what any conspiracy theorists would like to think. Goodness, we have been getting enough grief from Elizabeth Preston, who refuses to accept what her husband did.”
    “I have experienced Elizabeth’s persistence first hand,” I said.
    “Well, we’re still awaiting toxicology results, but the preliminary findings are pointing to a fairly clear suicide.”
    “I visited the Maryville Chief of Police but she refused to share any details with me.”
    “There isn’t much to share, really. She has a witness who saw Preston park his car on the bridge then jump — a night fisherman, sitting on a sunken river barge below the bridge, saw the whole thing. So it’s cut-and-dried. As for the medical examination, we hired Doc Milaskovich to do that, as our county always does with the big cases. Almost everything he found is consistent with suicide.”
    “Almost?”
    “Doc tells me the cause of death is drowning, but says the manner is not clear enough to be suicide based on his evaluation,” said J.W. “He identified a few things that could potentially point to other manners of death, but you know how incredibly thorough Doc can be.”
    I laughed out loud. I’d known Doc many years and J.W.’s statement was true.
    “What things?” I said.
    “Well, he said the buttons were torn on Preston’s suit. Preston wore brand new shoes that had scuff marks on the toes. Doc says it’s possible the buttons could have got snagged on debris in the water and that the shoes could have got scraped when Preston was submerged.”
    “Interesting.”
    “But the Maryville chief tells me Preston’s business associates said he’d been depressed,” he said. “Her report is not yet final, but like I said, this one has suicide written all over it.”
    “As interesting as Preston’s case may be, all I’m interested in is finding Erin Miller. Did you see her get into a car? Is there anything you know of that could help me find her?”
    “Sorry, no. She approached me in the hallway as I was headed out the front door of the municipal building to a meeting. If not for that, I might have gone with her to her home — she was quite a looker. I offered to walk her out, but she hesitated.”
    “Hesitated?”
    “Yeah, like she was worried about going out the front door. After we parted, she walked out of the back of the building.”
    “Since we’re on the subject, any chance of you sharing the name of the witness who saw Preston jump?” I said.
    “That is information is not public information as of yet. The police report is not complete. This person’s name is not intended to be shared with civilians.”
    J.W. grinned, his teeth glowing.
    “There may be a Johnny Walker Black Label in it for you.”
    His grin widened.
    “What I meant to say is there may be a Johnny Walker Blue Label in it for you.”
    He laughed.
    And then gave me the witness’s name.

Chapter #10
     
    It was late in the evening when I arrived back to Maryville. I drove slowly across the Maryville Bridge with my truck windows open. The water below was serene as reflections from street lights danced across its surface.
    I took the hard right at the end of the bridge and descended into the heart of town. I left the truck in the lot by the bank and walked down a narrow path toward the sunken river barge that lined the river bank — the barge that Morton and Albert told me about in the barber shop, where the night fisherman had been fishing the night Preston died.
    As I walked to the edge of the sunken barge, I came across a man sitting in a fold-out chair. There was a cooler next to him and a camper's lantern burning bright on the ground. He had a line cast into the river with the rod tied to the arm of his chair. He nibbled on a sandwich and sipped coffee out of a thermos.
    “Evening,” he said, chuckling. “Not much biting tonight. Everybody else gave up, but I have a sense they’ll be