Free The Lady Who Sang High: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 7) by Renee Pawlish

difficult,” she said as she placed her hands on the granite countertop. “Exposing Jude this way.”
    “I know,” I sympathized, although I hadn’t felt as if we’d exposed anything.
    I walked over to a breakfast nook and stared out through a big bay window. The backyard was expansive, with a tall maple tree that bathed the lawn in shadows and there was a rock garden in one corner. A large shed sat in the other corner, the kind that looked more like a small cottage than a place for storage. I leaned close to the glass.
    “Is the window on that shed covered up?”
    Jodie strolled over. “I don’t know.”
    She opened the sliding glass door and we stepped outside. The maple kept the growing heat at bay as I headed across the yard. I got to the shed and scrutinized the window. Sure enough, cardboard had been taped tightly over the window from the inside. I tried the door. Locked. I turned to Jodie.
    “I don’t have a key,” she was already saying. “Did you see any when you were searching the house?”
    I shook my head. “Let’s check around the kitchen again, and the garage. People usually keep shed keys within easy access.” Unless they were hiding something in them.
    We hurried back in the house, searched the kitchen drawers, and hunted around for places where he might’ve hung the key. We came up empty so we went through a short hall, past a laundry room, and into the three-car garage.
    Lawn equipment and a snow blower took up space at the far end, and two bicycles sat nearby, but no cars. A short workbench lined part of the back wall, and cheap cabinets hung above. I rummaged around in tool boxes on the workbench and in the cabinets, but found nothing.
    “Where would Jude keep the key?” I muttered.
    “I don’t – wait.” She slapped her forehead. “His car’s still parked at work. Maybe the shed key is with his other keys.”
    That seemed like a good guess, but it had me wondering. What was in that shed?
    “Okay,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. “Check for it when you get to work and we’ll come back if we find it. Otherwise I may break the lock.”
    That made her shudder. Then she pulled out her phone. “Wes is texting me. I need to get back to Blue Light.”
    I nodded and followed her through the house, then waited while she locked up. “You’ll come in at noon, right?”
    “Yep,” I said. “I’m going to get something to eat first. And that way we don’t show up together.”
    “Right. You’re just an employee,” she reminded herself. “I’ll see you there soon.”
    She got in the Camry and I waved as she drove off.
    I stood in the driveway for a moment, tempted to go break into the shed now. But I decided not to commit that crime, and I strolled to my car and went in search of a quick bite to eat before I had to start my shift at Blue Light.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
    Bill and Ivy were busy helping customers when I walked in. The music had switched from Bob Marley to some other rock station, but no 80s alternative. Too bad.
    “Hey,” I said to Bill and Ivy as I came around the counter.
    “Did you hear what happened?” Ivy whispered.
    I shook my head, feigning ignorance.
    “Jude was killed last night.”
    “No!” I tried not to overdo my surprise.
    “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” Bill muttered sarcastically. “He said he would be long gone, but I didn’t know he meant this .”
    “What does that mean?” Ivy snapped.
    He blushed. “Nothing. I mean, uh, it was something I overheard, Jude talking to Carlo.”
    “What’d Jude say?” I asked.
    “Something about ‘It won’t matter because I’ll be out of here soon.’ That was it. I was just making a bad joke about…” he grew redder, “his death…” Bill was clearly embarrassed by what he’d said.
    She glared at him, then threw me a wary look. “I’ll tell you about Jude later,” she murmured to me, then helped the next customer, who was impatiently waiting.
    “Cool. Let me see what