Free R.P. Dahlke - Dead Red 04 - A Dead Red Alibi by R.P. Dahlke Page B

show me around Nana’s old place, we’ll leave for California, ‘cause I have a date with him in San Francisco tomorrow night.”
    “We’ll talk about that. I think after you hear what’s happened you might want to postpone that date.”
     
     
    I showed Pearlie the house and the barn where a sleek little race car had been sequestered for fifty years. She gasped at the antique race car.
    “Dad’s now fixated on restoring it,” I said.
    Pearlie laughed. “I heard about this old thang. Granny said he loved it like a baby and it went everywhere they did. Odd, that it’s still here.”
    “We thought so too.”
    “It’s still Granny’s though, isn’t it?”
    I shrugged. “She can have it back. I don’t need it.”
    Pearlie’s eyes lit. “I like it,” she said. “Maybe she’ll let me have it.”
    Maybe my great-aunt Mae hadn’t meant to leave her husband’s Bugatti to me. I would have to ask her, but right now, I had to bring Pearlie’s attention to t he events of the last few days: my dad’s disappearance down an abandoned mine pit, the two murders, and lastly how I really needed her to be here to help me find suspects.
    “So,” I asked Pearlie, “what do you think?”
    She laughed and wiped her dusty hands off onto her pants. “Didn’t I tell you to wait until I got back to get into trouble again?”
    “Trust me on this,” I said. “This was not as much fun as you might think. Someone murdered two people; a young woman who owned the property behind us and Wishbone’s police chief.”
    “Well then, time’s-a-wastin’. What’s next?”
    “Let’s go into the house and talk to the men.”
     
    ~~~~~~~~~~
     
    “The only problem migh t be how you introduce yourself,” Caleb said.
    “How’s that? ” Pearlie asked. “Oh, you mean me being a Bains and all. This family does tend to become suspects in murder cases, don’t we?”
    She moved her plate aside, opened her purse and fanned out four business cards for us to choose from.
    I picked up two. One said Georgia Smith, Private Investigator and a cell number. The next one said Pearl Bains and a listing for an internet floral company. She handed me a third for my inspection. It said, Crime Scene Cleaners with the same cell phone number.
    She put a pink-tipped nail on each card and explained. “All the numbers are the same, flowers are a good opener for when you want to talk to the family of the deceased, and a crime scene cleaning goes hand in hand with murder, don’t it?”
    “What about the fake names?” Caleb asked.
    She shrugged. “I can say I accidently picked up my business partner’s card. It’s just a card. I’ve been studying up for my P.I. license and learning all sorts of great ways to get suspects to talk.”
    “About that,” Caleb said. “You can’t represent yourself as a private investigator until you’re licensed.”
    “Oh please,” Pearlie responded. “Anyone can call themselves an investigator and I ain’t so dumb that I’d wave around a fake license.”
    She eyed me when she said it. The intent was to remind us that she knew all about the fake police badge I used to get information out of witnesses. I’d retired the badge, but Pearlie was on a roll.
    “Besides,” she said, “I’m a sight better looking than you are, Caleb Stone. You got cop-walk, whereas I’m just a cute lil’ blond from Texas, new in town, looking for a job or a place to rent or a haircut,” she said, primping her blonde locks. “We’ll start at the local beauty parlor. They always have the best gossip. Besides, Lalla and I need our roots done, don’t we, Cuz?”
    Caleb’s eyes narrowed in warning. “You and Lalla will have to stay out of the way of the sheriff’s department.”
    Pearlie patted the outside zipper on her purse. “Sure we will. An’ I got my Lady Smith, don’t I? I checked and I can carry it on my hip if I want. I’m cautious, so there’s no need to worry, now is there?”
     
    ~~~~~~~~~~
     
    That