Page 42 of Over the Edge

“You mind if I take your picture?” He extracted his phone again. “So I can show it around at your lunch spot.”

His face split into a smile again. “This mug could break a camera. But shoot away if you want. And try to make me look good.”

Jack snapped several shots, put the phone away, and fishedout a card. “Remember ... I’d like to talk to your friend as soon as possible.”

“I’ll pass that on.” He tucked the card into one of the pockets of his beat-up coat. “Can I go?”

“Yes.”

The man set the mug down and ambled out of the office, toward the front door.

As soon as he disappeared from sight, Jack snapped on a latex glove, pulled out another evidence bag, and sealed the mug inside. After filling out the chain of custody label on both items his trip to the pawn shop had produced, he returned to the front of the store.

“What’s the story on your guy?” Dirk motioned toward the front door.

“I don’t know yet.” He hefted the bag with the mug. “I’d like to borrow this.”

“Keep it. I have dozens of them. You gonna run his prints?”

“You have any issue with that?”

“No. The mug’s yours now, anyway.”

The bell over the door announced the arrival of a customer, and Jack pulled out his keys. “Watch for that Starbucks card. And thanks again for the call.”

“Anytime, my friend.”

Jack exited into the almost balmy weather. Quite a contrast to last week’s sudden cold spell. But that was November in St. Louis for you. And according to the meteorologists, the warm spell was going to last for another few days.

Meaning Cara should have decent weather on Sunday during her drive up from Cape for their monthly family get-together.

That would be a pleasant interlude in what otherwise had been a frustrating week.

Maybe Pop’s prints would provide helpful information. Or the man would follow through and talk to his friend. Orthe undercover operative would observe a helpful interaction once he picked up Pop’s tail at the man’s favorite lunch spot.

But as Jack slid behind the wheel of his car and pointed it west, the mounting odds against solving this case didn’t leave him feeling hopeful.

Nor did the unsettling sense that despite the murderer’s apparently clean getaway, he or she was keeping tabs on this investigation and wouldn’t hesitate to strike again if anyone got too close to uncovering their identity.

Nine

IT WAS A PERFECT MORNINGto be on the lake. And gliding over the calm water as the sun crested the tree-lined shore was exactly what she needed to soothe her frayed nerves on this barely post-dawn Sunday.

Knees bent, shins vertical, back straight, Lindsey leaned forward and breathed deep as she dipped her blades into the water, pushed with her legs, and propelled the scull forward. Once the seat slid back and her legs were flat, she lifted the blades from the water and swung them behind her. Relaxing her upper body and arms, she bent her knees and let the seat slide forward again.

Dr. Oliver had been right. Getting back into her routine did help restore a sense of normalcy to her life. Thank goodness Mother Nature had cooperated with warm, windless weather ideal for sculling.

As she skimmed over the surface of the lake, Lindsey exhaled, the tension melting from her shoulders. The rhythmic cadence of the strokes calmed her even more than her session three days ago with Dr. Oliver had. And while the text from Heidi canceling Thursday’s cooking slot had been badnews for her budget, the welcome reprieve from returning to the scene of the crime more than compensated for the lost income.

The sun inched up another notch, the trees casting long shadows on the serene lake in the early morning light. Best of all, she had the expanse to herself. There would be more lake traffic later, once the chilly sunrise temperature rose to the predicted low seventies, but at this hour no sound broke the stillness save the soft dip of her blades and the occasional honk of a goose.

Should she extend her session today? Do an extra lap or two of her usual route? She could always attend the later service at her church. And afterward, thanks to the additional exercise, she could afford to splurge on a sweet treat from—

Whoa!

Her pulse stumbled as one of the blades came to an abrupt stop, violently rocking the scull.

Reflexes kicking in, she summoned up every ounce of her skill to rebalance and keep herself from ending up in the lake.

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