Free Carol Shenold - Tali Cates 02 - Bloody Murder by Carol Shenold Page B

uncles close by. They were new in town. They came with the first round of construction people working on the new prison outside of town.”
    “Wonderful,” I gasped, out of breath trying to keep up with Cherilyn’s long legs and sweating like gangbusters. “How did you hear about it?”
    “The girl who works at the funeral home called me. Evidently they picked up Don and the kids while they were casket shopping, and they’re due to arrive at the jail any minute.”
    “Oh, nice. Can’t they at least let the family grieve? That’s the shits. What’s JT thinking?”
    “Actually, that’s another thing. The city and county are fighting over jurisdiction, both groups think it’s their crime. It’s the new DA who is behind this early arrest, if my resources are correct.”
    “Poor guy, poor kids.”
    When we got to the courthouse, Cherilyn pulled me away from the already formed crowd. “They’ll deliver him to the back and I want a picture.”
    “How did a queue happen so quickly? That’s morbid, and so is taking pictures.”
    Cherilyn looked at me. “Haven’t you ever noticed how crowds follow bad things, dark emotions? It’s a rule of the universe. And my job is to document what’s happening, good, bad, or ugly—and this is ugly.”
    Before I could answer, two city police cars pulled up and parked. Cherilyn zeroed in on a shot with her video cam and powerful zoom lens. I’d been prepared for the frantic paparazzi flashing instead of this intense and quiet moment as the dazed-looking girls were unloaded and bundled indoors.
    The crowd evidently clued into what was going on. Running feet pounded around the corner behind us as we, and half the town, gathered to watch.
    Someone yelled out, “Murderer.”
    “Didn’t you think about your children?” another voice screamed.
    Don didn’t look up when the officers took him out of the car. He stared down as he walked. He looked as if he’d lost his best friend and didn’t know what to do. He looked like a grieving widower.
    Waves of sorrow rolled off him and slammed into us as he walked into the building.
    I turned to Cherilyn as she lowered her camera. “Did you feel it? He’s truly grieving. I don’t think he killed anyone. JT has the wrong person and this will ruin Don’s life.”
    “If you mean this heat wave, yes, I feel it. As far as his guilt or innocence—thank God it’s not my decision. Gotta run to the office with this shot. I’ll see you later.”
    I stared after her, wondering where my friend was, the one who cared about stray kittens and fallen birds. Maybe this was a Laurel effect.
     

Chapter Eight
    By the time I got home, I had a few hours before I had to be at the fairgrounds, check the amphitheatre to make sure nothing had been left from the night before.
    Then, find something cool enough to wear and have lunch. Funny how food always landed at the top of my to-do list. Thank goodness for genes that tolerated my appetite without ballooning my hips too far.
    I sautéed a chicken breast and made a sandwich, opting for the cool dining room rather than the hot deck. A tall glass of raspberry tea and I was set to relax for a good thirty minutes—until Sean came barreling into the room waving a book.
    “Mom. Guess what? Love used to have a vampire. It lived right here.” He plopped a musty book with a moldy-looking cover on the table, sending up a cloud of something that smelled like old books and forgotten secrets.
    “What do you mean, right here? This was always our house, Sean.”
    He gave me the look, the one that said , why do I put up with this idiot? “No, not here, here, I mean here in our town. We had a vampire living here a hundred years ago. The guy next door could be the same one. Maybe he’s just now come out of hiding and is trying to get back into society again so he can feed on innocents.”
    “Sean, I want every comic you have, and no more movie classics for you, at least, nothing else with monsters in it. I can’t