Free A DEAD RED MIRACLE: #5 in the Dead Red Mystery Series by R.P. Dahlke Page A

an artist you know and I'd rather you gave whatever news you have with your investigation to me. Can you do that?"
    I looked at Pearlie. Her eyes were telegraphing a plea to just say yes.
    I agreed with a quick lift of my shoulders.
    "Good," he said. "I told you I looked at all the deputies involved in the shootout, but that was before my sister hired a P.I. I'm giving you a copy of the entire file, pictures included. I found a few things, but… "
    "But what, Sheriff?" Pearlie asked.
    "You will have to tread carefully. I have taken the liberty of writing up a list of possible suspects. It's down to three men. They all have at least one reason to want to avoid any association with your investigation into this old murder."
    Ian reached for the folder on his coffee table and handed it to me. "The check is from my sister but I am concerned enough about this list to put a letter into a safety deposit box with a key for my attorney. If anything happens to me or my nephew, the state's attorney will get a copy. Please put this in a safe place, or better yet, memorize the names and burn it."
    Pearlie flipped open the folder, read it and then passed it over to me. I read the names and with a lighter from the table the document faded into black ash. "How about the autopsy on Ron Barbour?"
    Pearlie shivered. "If it's all the same to you, I'll pass."
    "A copy of the report is all we need," I said, patting her hand. I wouldn't expect my squeamish cousin to want to watch as Ron's body was laid open on a steel table, his internal organs incised and weighed by an indifferent medical examiner.
    "I can get you a copy when it's official."
    I picked up the photo of the horse with Geronimo engraved on the frame. "Is there some significance in the name Geronimo to you and your family?"
    Ian looked at his nephew before answering. "Outside of raising champion quarter horses, we're his direct descendants."
    "That's also your nickname at the gym, isn't it, Damian?" Pearlie asked.
    "What of it?" Damian was back to his belligerent attitude.
    Ian's jaw tightened and his face went red with frustration. "You broke into this nice lady's office and stole her personal property. For some reason she has decided not to turn you over to the police, but keep it up and she might change her mind."
    Damian ducked his head as if he wished he could disappear.
    "You can help us with this investigation, you know," I said.
    "Perhaps you'd rather remain a suspect in Ron Barbour's murder?" Ian said. "Then what do you think your chances are for a shot at American Ninja Warrior?"
    Startled, Damian's coppery skin actually paled. "Sorry."
    "Ian," I said, looking at the check. "We can't accept this. Your sister already gave Ron a deposit."
    He pushed it back to me. "You'll have to finish what Ron started and without the evidence he had to get an arrest. Hopefully, you can get what you need without getting killed for it."
    Since he put it that way, maybe we should have asked for more money.

.
    Chapter Eleven:
     
     
    Outside Ian Tom's house, Caleb leaned on the open window of Pearlie's rental and sniffed. "Is it just me or does your rental smell like cat piss?"
    "I have no idea what you're talking about," Pearlie said, avoiding his eyes. "And if you'll excuse us, we have a job to do."
    He looked at me. "You'll take Ian's advice and keep a low profile, right?"
    "We can't get in trouble looking at pictures of the house fire and the mine collapse, now can we?" I said sweetly.
    "I've seen you get into trouble with less."
    "This ain't our first rodeo, you know," Pearlie said.
    "Then I'll let you get to it," Caleb said, stepping away.
    Pearlie put the car into gear and hit the gas.
    Either she was anxious to get some miles on our first real paying job or she was thinking about her date later tonight with the trainer from the gym.
     
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    Arriving at our office in Sierra Vista, Pearlie breezed through the door without using her key.
    "You didn't lock it?"
    "Why bother?"