Page 42 of Drake


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Drake shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a morning in mixed company—and by mixed, I mean multi-generational—where the word sex was brought up not once but repeatedly before I’d consumed a full cup of coffee.”

“I believe Ms. Dottie is my spirit grandmother.” Murdock sat across from Drake and spooned eggs onto his plate and oatmeal into a smaller bowl. “I want to be like her when I’m that age.”

Ms. Dottie came back in carrying a bowl of freshly sliced fruit. “Also good for the libido.” She set it on the table and claimed the seat on the end.

Murdock sprang to his feet to help her with the chair.

Once everyone had food on their plates, Ms. Dottie glanced at Drake. “I’m beginning to think you attract bad juju, Mr. Morgan.”

Drake looked up from the forkful of eggs suspended halfway to his mouth. “I’m sorry…what did you say?”

“Juju.” She pointed her fork at him. “Since you’ve come to town, you’ve discovered a dead woman and our only decent mechanic crushed by the tools of his trade.” She waved the fork. “I hate to ask what’s next for you.”

“It’s not like I set out to find bodies,” he said.

Her face softened. “I’m just yanking your chain. I’m a good judge of character. I know you wouldn’t have committed those crimes. But someone did. It worries me to no end knowing there’s a killer out there who has no regard for life.”

“We’re working on it,” Drake said.

“Your sweetie is one smart cookie,” Ms. Dottie said between bites. “Between you two, you’ll find who is responsible for the two murders.”

Drake hoped they would before any more lives were lost. He strongly suspected Earl’s death was connected with the woman they’d found in the lodge. If he’d been targeted for something he might have known, how many other workers who’d been there for the addition and remodel would be at risk.

He needed to get back to Margaret Finley’s place and pick her brain for more names. First, he had to show up for work. He’d promised to be there for the duration of the project. Today was only his third day on the job, and he was about to ask for time off so that he could chase more leads in the woman’s death, and now Earl’s, decades later.

He quickly ate the food provided, thankful for the nutrients that would help him get through the day and possibly the night. “Please excuse me. I have a lot of work to get through today.”

“We’re doing the same work,” Grimm pointed out.

“Unless he’s going to ask for the day off to help with the investigation,” Murdock said. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“We’d go with you, but that would make Molly and Parker fall behind on their reno schedule,” Grimm said.

Drake pushed back from the table and started to collect his plate and glass.

“Leave it,” Ms. Dottie said. “Your time is better spent helping Deputy Douglas find killers.”

He nodded to his host. “Thank you.” To his teammates, he said, “We’ll catch up later.”

“Hey, Drake,” Murdock raised a hand. “Don’t forget Hank Patterson.”

Drake frowned. “What about Hank?”

“He can help. He’s got a computer guru who could help with the missing persons database. And if you need backup, you have his Brotherhood Protectors and us.”

He’d forgotten about Hank and his protective service. He’d call him right after he talked with Molly.

He hurried up to his room, slipped his shoulder holster over his head and buckled it around his waist. His pistol was out in the truck. He’d holster it and take the gun wherever he went until they solved the crime and brought the killer to justice.

He brushed his teeth then ran down the stairs. Out in the parking lot, he climbed into his truck, shifted into drive and headed for the sheriff’s office. He entered, hoping to find Cassie.

Sheriff Barron was there with a woman manning the telephone. Already the calls were coming in. The woman handled the calls quickly, professionally and with the skill and patience needed to walk the callers through what they could do to help their situations.

The sheriff held out his hand. “Deputy Douglas is out on a call investigating a drive-by mailbox bashing.”

Drake shook the sheriff’s hand. “If she returns anytime soon, tell her I’m headed to Margaret Finley’s. I’m going to pick her brains for more names of employees who were there throughout the remodel and addition.”

“I should come with you,” the sheriff said.

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