Free Triple Shot by Sandra Balzo Page B

Eric, both because of Ted and my divorce and Eric’s own realization that he, himself, was gay. Our son had told me and then his father and, relieved that we loved him and life wasn’t going to come crashing down around him – at least, more than it already had with the divorce – Eric had gone back to the ‘U’.
    A huge relief because, though Ted was responsible for Eric’s tuition, my ex and I shared joint custody of a fervent desire to see our son graduate. And be happy.
    I drove the short distance to Uncommon Grounds and pulled into the parking lot. Leaving the Escape, I moved around the track side of the building. The area that had been cordoned off yesterday still was, guarded by only one sheriff’s deputy next to the steps.
    I said good morning and he nodded back, an Uncommon Grounds to-go cup in his left hand.
    ‘Can I get you a refill?’
    ‘No, thank you, ma’am. Amy just brought me this one.’
    ‘Great,’ I said as I started up the stairs to the platform. ‘Just yell if you need anything.’
    I stopped and craned my neck down to see him. ‘Do you happen to know if Sheriff Pavlik will be by today?’
    The hint of a grin, quickly stifled. That Pavlik was dating the local Typhoid Mary of untimely deaths was common knowledge, not that the department respected its sheriff any less. I wasn’t quite sure what his troops thought of me.
    ‘He’s inside, ma’am,’ the deputy replied, nodding toward the door behind the steps. ‘Would you like to speak with him?’
    I did, though not necessarily in front of one of his subordinates. ‘No, thanks, I’ll—’
    ‘Maggy.’ Pavlik emerged from the half-door to the waiting room below. ‘A moment?’
    ‘Certainly.’ I backtracked down the steps and ducked under the tape, avoiding the deputy’s eyes. It felt uncomfortably close to being summoned to the principal’s office.
    Pavlik moved aside to let me enter, then followed me down the two steps to the linoleum floor. In contrast to yesterday when he might have been dressed for court, today Pavlik was relatively casual. Dark-wash jeans and a dress shirt with the cuffs folded up. So simple and yet so, so . . .
    I glanced behind me to see if the deputy had stayed close, but the coast was clear. ‘Permission to approach the sheriff, sir?’
    The crinkle lines at the corners of his eyes showed the smile his mouth didn’t. ‘Permission denied.’
    ‘So put me in jail.’ I stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips.
    His hand came up to steady me at the waist and with a groan he pulled me into him. ‘I’ve missed you, Maggy.’
    ‘Me, too.’ Twining my arms around his neck, I hung there for a second and then stepped back. We both knew it wouldn’t do for the county sheriff to be canoodling at a murder scene.
    ‘We’re going to secure the door and keep the area taped,’ Pavlik said, looking tired, ‘but Harris out there will be taking off once the crime scene guys are done.’
    ‘That’s fine.’ I shook my head. ‘Poor Brigid. How horrible to take your last breaths in there.’ I tilted my head toward the stuffy little bathroom. ‘And all alone to boot. She was beautiful and young, not much older than Eric. She should have been out having fun, not . . .’
    ‘Dying? I agree. But from what we’ve determined so far, she wasn’t killed here.’
    ‘No?’ I struggled to embrace the first arguably good news I’d had without jinxing it.
    ‘Ms Ferndale was hit in the back of the head.’ Pavlik used his right hand as a teacher’s aide. ‘And wherever that happened, there should have been a good amount of blood.’
    ‘But there wasn’t,’ I said, glancing toward the bathroom. Since Brigid had been face-up, I couldn’t have seen the wound without moving her body, not only bad crime-scene behavior but just plain yucky. I certainly didn’t recall any blood, though, much less ‘a good amount’.
    ‘But, Pavlik, if Brigid was killed somewhere else, how did she get here?’
    ‘Good