Free Real Murder (Lovers in Crime Mystery Book 2) by Lauren Carr Page A

voice.
    “I believe the congresswoman has a good point,” the police superintendent said. “I took the liberty of looking into cases in the Ohio Valley similar to Deputy Gardner’s murder. I found one in two thousand and two where a Pennsylvania State Trooper was run down right outside Pittsburgh while giving a ticket to someone he had pulled over for a broken taillight. A suspect was never arrested, but there has been speculation that the hit was deliberate. Now maybe—”
    Cameron didn’t hear the rest. It was drowned out by the roar in her ears from the blood rushing to her head due to the rapid beating of her heart brought on by fury.
    Sheriff Curt Sawyer slid out of his seat to step between Cameron and MacRae. “That case is in no way connected to Deputy Gardner’s disappearance,” he insisted.
    “How can you be so certain?” MacRae asked.
    “Trooper Gates was killed in a hit and run by a drunk driver,” the sheriff said.
    “You’re just assuming he was drunk,” MacRae said. “No suspects were ever apprehended. The case was never closed. As long as it is open, an argument could be made that—”
    “That was my husband, you idiot,” Cameron sputtered out while Sheriff Sawyer ushered her back.
    “I think you should go sit down, Cameron,” Curt Sawyer said in a low soothing voice. “I’ll handle this.”
    “But—”
    “This isn’t your case,” Curt said in a low voice. “Go order a sundae for yourself. Make it a double. I’ll handle these morons.”
    “Cameron, do you want some lunch or not?” Lorraine raised her voice a notch louder to catch everyone’s attention.
    Curt grinned at the glare that crossed her face at Lorraine’s chastising tone. “Go join the hen party.”
    Set off by one of the women suggesting that they make sure to say grace before eating, Lorraine was ranting about how God was no more than a myth and she refused to be a part of an ancient ritual when Cameron sat down next to Dolly.
    “If you don’t want to say grace, Lorraine,” Dolly replied, “then no one is making you.” Her lips curled up into a smile. Her wrinkled little face was almost childlike when she continued in a sickeningly sweet tone. “While we’re giving thanks to God for our blessings, you can go home and pack for warm weather. Believe me, you’re going to be needing it where you’re going after you bite the big one.”
    “Dolly!” Jan gasped.
    “You’ll get there before me.” Lorraine’s eyes were blazing.
    “Lorraine!” Jan turned to gasp at the old woman on the other side of the table.
    The expressions on the faces of the other women around the table were a mixture of shock and amusement.
    “I’m sorry,” Dolly asked, “did I say something wrong? I must have had another one of those mini-strokes that I’ve been known to have on occasion.”
    “Funny how you only seem to have them when Lorraine is around,” one of the women noted with a smile.
    With a wicked giggle, Dolly grasped Cameron’s hand, leaned over, and whispered into her ear, “Growing old does have its advantages.”
    “What’s that?” she asked to take her mind off of the conversation at the other end of the table. Lorraine was still sputtering about Dolly’s low blow.
    “Everyone thinks old people have bad memories,” Dolly’s voice rose. “In some ways, they are right. Sometimes I do forget what I had for breakfast, but things that happened years ago—people I have met, things that were said, plans that were made, treacherous things that people did, especially horrific things to good people, the evil that some people will do to others and get away with, I remember those things with the clarity of an engraving on my brain.”
    A hush had fallen around them while Dolly spoke. The little old lady’s eyes bore into Cameron’s face. The corners of her lips curled into what resembled a devilish smile.
    “Do you know who did it?” Cameron asked. “Do you know who the killer is?”
    “Oh, yes,” Dolly