Free Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 04 - With This Ring by Jeanne Glidewell Page A

fingers through his silver hair, and continued, “I can understand why the trauma of finding Thurman’s body would trigger a setback with the Alzheimer’s. I sure hope this setback is reversible, and not a permanent infliction. I feel so bad for Bonnie, and Harold too, of course.”
    “It goes without saying that we all do. While Mrs. Bloomingfield was at the station the chief had me take a set of her fingerprints, which I personally thought was unnecessary. Naturally, this upset her again, making her even more certain she was about to be arrested for murder. It kind of irked Harold too. But her prints did match a couple of the one’s found in Steiner’s kitchen, which is not at all unexpected, since she was the person who found him dead and would have naturally touched a few items while reaching for the phone to call nine-one-one. That only leaves a couple of fingerprints left that haven’t been accounted for yet, and no matches were found on IAFIS, the national database of prints,” Wyatt said. He paused to snatch another cream-filled Danish off the pastry platter, and then continued.
    “One last thing before I have to leave. A citizen on Cedar Street, just about two blocks from the pastor’s house, called in to the police department to report a vehicle being parked in front of his house numerous times in the last couple of months. Most often it’s parked there in the afternoon, generally around three-thirty to five-thirty or so. The concerned citizen had never seen the driver, but said the morning of the murder was the first time he’d ever seen it parked in front of his house early in the morning. He couldn’t recall the exact time, but thought it could have been there at five. A noise outside had awakened him and he’d gone to the front door to look out. That’s when he noticed the car, and thought it was an unusual time for it to be parked there.”
    “Do you think the car is connected to the murder?” Stone asked his friend.
    “We have no way to determine that at this point, but we’re looking for the owner of a black Ford Mustang, maybe two or three years old. Just to question him, of course. We have nothing to connect him to the crime, and it’s probably unrelated, but still worth checking in to. Sometimes the most insignificant clue proves to be the turning point in solving a crime. And, like I said, we have to look at every possibility.”
    “Let us know if you find out anything,” I said. “And I’ll let you know if I happen to hear anything about the black Mustang or the driver of that car.”
    Wyatt nodded, rolled his eyes at Stone again, polished off his pastry in two bites, and gulped down his last swig of coffee. He turned to look at me and said, “I suppose it’s a waste of time to try to convince you to stay out of this investigation, Lexie. I know how stubborn and impulsive you can be. But can you at least promise me you’ll stop impersonating a member of the police squad? I can only protect you so much. The chief considered bringing you in to the station this time, but I was able to dissuade him. I might not be able to do that next time though, because his patience is wearing thin. And, believe me, you don’t want to be on the chief’s bad side.”
    I promised. It was the least I could do for him keeping me out of trouble with the police department–twice! Wyatt stayed long enough to wolf down four or five more pastries and then excused himself to go back on patrol. I couldn’t believe what a mess I’d made of things where the Bloomingfields were concerned. I’d certainly never meant to upset them or convince Bonnie she’d had anything to do with the crime. Alzheimer’s was such a terrible disease. I vowed to tread more lightly in the future. I didn’t want to cause anybody else any unnecessary grief.
    * * *
    It didn’t take me long after Wyatt left to get a list of all the black Mustang owners in Rockdale. I placed a call to the local Department of Motor Vehicles, and