Page 83 of Rest In Pink

She nodded.

“How did you choose where you were going?”

“Oh.” She turned her head away. “I had a list.”

“Based on what?”

She looked back at me. “Of projects on interim housing for the homeless. And low-income housing. I learned a lot. And then Rebecca called me and asked if I was interested in writing an autobiography, and that seemed like a good time, but she hooked me up with that awful Thacker, and I fired him, and then she sent me you so you could harass me about houses I’ve lived in.”

“Just write the brownstone memories,” I told her. “I’ll explain it all when we’re done.”

She sighed and went back to her laptop, and I was pretty sure she was faking it because from what I’d read that she’d already written, she was having a great time remembering houses.

Then I went back to Chapter Eight, On My Own, and tried to make it interesting.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Rain was sitting inside her Mercedes, which was gleaming. How she’d managed to do that between last night and this morning, I have no idea. She did like that car.

I parked behind her this time because if we had to chase someone, she’d pass me anyway, at least until we hit an unimproved road. Then all bets were off. I got out, grabbed the paper bag from the Red Box, and walked back to her. She didn’t get out, gesturing for me to get in the passenger seat. I slid inside.

“This is nice,” I admitted, looking around at the well-appointed interior.

“Who is posting Thacker’s bullshit?” Rain demanded.

“You’ve got that heat and AC thing in the seats,” I noted, pointing at the controls. “I only have heat. No AC.”

“Vince?”

“Hello, Inspector Raina Still.”

“Hello, Detective Vince Cooper. Who is posting for Thacker?”

“Anyone can post on the community Facebook page,” I said. “Probably just some kids screwing around.”

“No, they’re posting where he did, in the moderator’s place,” she said. “That’s a hack, but at least it’s not from his computer. So, it’s probably not whoever stole it. That would be incredibly stupid. This is somebody who thinks they’re funny as hell and is having a good time.”

I opened the paper bag and removed a cup of coffee from the cardboard tray and put it in the cup holder. “I brought doughnuts on behalf of the Chief of Detectives of the Burney Police Department. Jelly-filled from the Red Box now that they’re doing breakfast. The ones you like.”

“Don’t you dare take them out in here,” Rain said.

“You’re welcome.”

“I do not want jelly on my car seats.”

“But you want a doughnut. We can sit in the Gladiator. It’s already messy.”

She waved that away. “I don’t like people messing with the case.”

“The new Facebook poster? Come on, that was funny.” Rain looked at me like I was an idiot, so I went back to business. “Did you learn anything more about Mickey and the Iron Wolves from the OCI? Why are the State Police so interested?”

“This whole thing has political vibes,” Rain said. “Thacker flat out named Senator Amy Wilcox and her husband in his posts. That’s poking a grizzly with a stick. And that bit about Cleve handing Senator Alex Wilcox a briefcase full of cash? I wonder where the hell he got that since Alex Wilcox Sr. has been dead for years.”

“So has Cleve,” I said. “Maybe Skye Blue, the youngest daughter. Thacker hooked up with her in Cincinnati before coming here.”

“We’re going to have to talk to Skye Blue.”

“I’ll add it to the list.”

---