Free The Case of the Disappearing Corpse by June Whyte Page A

Cheap movie? This guy was seriously in need of glasses.
    “I was on my way to the mall, Constable,” I said, my voice honey-sweet and innocent.
    I half-expected the sparks from his eyes to set light to an old man who happened to be passing by. “Rubbish.” Nick Roberts snapped. “You were tagging me. Have been for the last five minutes. And I don’t like that.”
    “You don’t? Okay, here’s the deal then,” I said, getting ready to run for my life if his ears started to smoke. “You tell me about Frank Skinner and I’ll stop following you. If not, I might have to practice my tracking for say—the next couple of hours. See, I’m writing a story about this famous P.I. called Rebecca Turnbull and I really need to know what’s happening.”
    Nick’s scowl could have knocked a magpie off its nest. He drew himself up to his full height of around six-two and glared down at me. The fact that my head didn’t even come up to his armpits put me at a slight disadvantage. However, I folded my arms. Tapped my toe. Tried to stay cool.
    Which is tough when you’re so scared you’re about to wet your pants.
    At last, he shook his head slowly then burst out laughing.
    “Okay, you win.” A grin spread across his face as he looked me up and down. “Right-O, devil-spawn,” he growled. “What do you want to know?”
    A low breathy sigh escaped my lips. I returned his grin and hurried to keep up with him as he strode along the footpath toward the mall.
    “What have you found out about Frank Skinner?”
    “Your body in the shed?”
    “Yeah. Come on, you must have checked him out by now.”
    “Well, he did have a past record for assault and robbery with a weapon.”
    “Know where he worked?” To keep up with Nick’s long legs I was jogging beside him now.
    “At the Weapons Research Station at Osborne.”
    “Isn’t that where they try out new weapons of war?”
    The microfilm was starting to make sense .
    “Yes.” His voice went cold, almost threatening. “And intruders at the Centre are shot on sight.”
    I looked up and for a moment his eyes seemed as cold as his voice. Then his smile returned.
    “Okay, that’s all you’re worming out of me, devil-spawn. Now, go buy an ice cream or something and stop tailing me—or I’ll run you in.” He stopped and gave me a mock frown. “And I’ll tell you something else for free. If DI Phillips catches sight of you at the police station, he’ll lock you up and throw away the key.”
    “Is that the detective with the moustache and the very shiny black shoes?”
    Constable Roberts nodded, his white teeth gleaming against his tanned face.
    “That’s the one. And I heard from a very reliable source he had to toss those shiny black shoes in the garbage.”
    His grin widened as he walked off, slowly shaking his head. “Not a happy man…”

Fourteen
    “Here’s the library book you wanted, Mum,” I called, letting the screen door slam behind me. “You were lucky. The person who borrowed it only returned the book an hour before I got there.”
    “We’re in the kitchen baking cakes.” Ken’s voice was followed by a muffled giggle from Mum.
    As I poked my head through the kitchen doorway I rolled my eyes.
    “Geez, do you two lovebirds ever stop?” I asked in mock disapproval.
    By the flush on Ken’s face and the way Mum was grinning at him they’d been kissing over the cake-mixture.
    I was happy for Mum. She deserved a good guy like Ken in her life after losing Dad to a heart-attack six years ago then bringing me up single handed. This guy made her laugh and since he’d come into her life she looked years younger.
    But that didn’t make it any easier to put up with Ken’s daughter. If only Sarah wasn’t such a pain in the body-part you sit on.
    What about the sneaky way she found my diary?
    In my room…inside my wardrobe…under a pile of old tee-shirts…wrapped in a nightdress I used to wear when I was five.
    Hey, if she could find that—she could find