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?“I still don’t see why her co-conspirator would kill her.”
?“Got greedy, perhaps? Once the deal was done, maybe he didn’t want to give Candy her cut.”
?Mark sighed. “Well, this is not quite the evening I was anticipating.”
?I gave another annoyed sigh. “Yeah, me neither.”
?He moved his body close to mine and kissed me hungrily.
?Jon inserted the last bite of the sandwich into his mouth and froze in amazement at our kiss.
?I had to admit, it was a pretty remarkable kiss.
?We separated, and with my head spinning, I returned to the table to eat my own sandwich.
?Jon finally was able to speak again. He looked from Mark to me and back again. “I thought you two didn’t like each other.”
?“Now, whatever gave you that idea?” I asked and leaned back in my chair with a knowing smile.
29. Dumpbin
Mark Watkins
?The morning came too quickly, as it often does. I was in the midst of a lovely dream, which included a bare-breasted Sheryl Homes, who somehow had become the goddess Athena and touched me in interesting ways.
?She turned her head as a pounding noise came from an ivory temple, an ancient-looking building with huge pillars and an ornate exterior.
? “Ah,” she warned, “we have awakened the God of War with our passion.”
?I looked past her at the temple when the noise came again. There was a muffled voice behind the huge white
door, but I couldn’t comprehend the words.
?“I think you had best answer that,” she told me, and with a wave of her hand, disappeared.
?I sat up straight on the sofa where I’d slept, as another series of knocks came from my front door. I quickly rose, threw on my bathrobe, and stumbled my way to the door.
?Through the fish-eye lens, I saw Detective DeStadler flanked by two uniformed officers on the other side.
?“Just a minute,” I bellowed, as I tried to be heard through the heavy wooden door. I undid the locks and pulled the door open. “What time is it?”
?“8:00 AM,” DeStadler said and looked at the officers he brought. “Wait here!”
?They nodded and he walked in.
?“More bad news, Watkins.” He pulled out a paper and handed it to me. “Ballistics can prove that the gun used to shoot Candy Poole was definitely yours.”
?“Does my bail hold?”
?“Not sure. But it is Sunday and you don’t really appear to be a flight risk.”
?“That’s good.”
?“However, if I get pressure from above to pick you up, I will. This is a definitive link to the weapon found in your apartment. I should warn you this will mean a bail increase—”
?“How much?”
?“A lot.”
