Free A Veiled Antiquity (Torie O'Shea Mysteries) by Rett MacPherson Page A

a lesson that you needed.”
    I started to tell him that he was just agreeing with Sheriff Brooke because he was a man and this was a man thing. Rudy was just picking on me. But then, the more I thought about it, the more that I knew he was right.
    “All right. Send him in,” I said.
    Rudy left and Sheriff Brooke came in and stood where Rudy had stood before. He was in his full dress uniform, hat and all. It felt as though this was official business. He took his hat off and held it in his right hand.
    “Torie,” he said as he nodded his head. “How ya feeling?”
    “I have a headache,” I said and meant it in more ways than one.
    “You gonna tell me what happened last night?”
    I told him the whole story. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m telling the truth. I got my baseball bat and went to see if the person was all right and there was nobody in the car.”
    “It was a stolen car, which you probably assumed.”
    “Well, I hadn’t given it much thought. It hurts to think too much,” I said.
    “Did you get a look at the driver?”
    “Not really. I’d say it was a man only because he had short hair and was kind of tall.”
    “Did you get the same list of suspects that I did from the funeral registry?” he asked me.
    “Probably,” I said.
    “And you probably already know that three of them are staying at the Murdoch Inn.”
    “No, but I was going there today to check it out,” I admitted.
    He glanced out my window. All I could see from my bed was the top of the doctors’ building next door. It was a sunny day, I could tell that much. The sheriff turned around, pulled his britches legs up at the hips, and leaned against the heat register.
    “I propose that we go into business with each other,” he said.
    “Well, I’m flattered. But I’m not that good with antiques. I mean, I know what they are when I see them, but I can’t begin to tell you what they’re worth.”
    “No, not the antiques store,” he said to me.
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “I’m going to stop telling you to stop snooping around, as long as you don’t do anything illegal. Don’t break into anybody’s house, that sort of thing. Don’t endanger yourself. If you can do whatever it is that you do without breaking the law, have at it.”
    “What’s the catch?”
    “Nothing. If it doesn’t endanger you to snoop around and ask questions, then I’m not going to tell you not to anymore.”
    “I get it. You think that if you tell me it’s okay that it will take all the fun out of it and I’ll just stop on my own. It won’t work, because that’s not why I do it. All I know is that I get something in my head and it won’t leave until I have an answer for it that is satisfactory. It drives me nuts. That’s it. Curiosity. There are no hidden motives,” I said.
    “Whatever you say. All I know is sometimes I need the input of outsiders. It helps to get a fresh approach.”
    “Oh, paleeze,” I said. “I’m choking from all the cow manure in here.”
    “I’m serious. You helped me a lot on the Zumwalt case. And you made the right call on this one. Duran missed the two glasses on the table bigger than day. So if you want to give me advice in the future I’ll accept it,” he said. “As long as you don’t break any laws or any bones, get yourself killed, or get anybody else killed. And of course you have to tell me everything you find. But don’t tell anybody else,” he said.
    “I can’t tell anybody? It’s no fun if I can’t brag about it.”
    “You brag, the deal’s off.”
    “Oh, all right,” I agreed.
    He stood up and pulled a clear plastic bag out of his pants pocket. “Is this yours?” he asked.
    It was an inhaler for asthma.
    “No. Why would you think that?”
    “I found it in Marie’s house. Marie did not have asthma.”
    “Where in the house did you find it?” I asked.
    “In the entrance from the living room to the kitchen,” he said.
    “That’s what I tripped over,” I said more to