A Dangerous Woman (A Fay Cunningham Mystery-Book 1)

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Just because I botched my plan to get inside Joe's house and have a look around, did not have to mean the end to my snooping. That is why I drove into town to the police station.

Before I parked on one of the vacant spots outside the borough building, I made a quick survey sweep to make sure Mitch's pickup wasn't around. His truck wasn't in sight, so I parked my car.

I was hobbling to the door of the brick structure that was formerly used as a train station, when I heard a familiar voice calling my name from somewhere behind me.

"Thought that was you," Bill Miller said, and smiled over at me as he pulled the door open for me.

"Doug give you the day off, huh?"

"I'm working. Besides, Doug doesn't give us hard-working reporters a much needed day off like you did, Mrs. Cunningham."

Bill wasn't being sincere. He was being his usual suck-up-to-the-boss self.

My own words gave me a sudden shake. That was the way the old Fay Cunningham's mind worked. Always thinking people were complimentary to me because they wanted something in return. There always had to be an ulterior motive for their kindness. People didn't say what naturally came to mind anymore.

"So you're here on a story then?" I questioned.

"The new printer one of the local clubs donated. Supposed to simplify work around here for the boys."

It took a deep, deep breath, and a silent order to myself to remain calm when I really wanted to chew him out good. To demand to know what he was wasting his time on such trivial material for, when he should be hounding every officer on the force for an inside scoop on the murder case. The story about the donated printer could wait. Or I should say, would wait if I were still running the paper.

But you're not, that irritating inner voice reminded.

If nothing else, the voice did make me see I was also wasting precious time myself. There would be other days to chew the fat with Bill. I had important business to tend to.

"Can't wait to see the picture you get," I said, making reference to the camera he was swinging at his side.

I managed to put some distance between us when I spotted Francie. Francie might only be the meter reader, but she knows everything that goes on inside the walls of this building.

"Hey, how's it going, Francie?"

"Goin' just fine on this end."

After giving my foot a glance, she parked a hand on a wide hip and gave a roll of her dark eyes.

"Looks like things ain't so fine for you," she said.

"Just a sprain. Think I can survive it."

"Lean on me," she said, pointing her elbow my way.

I did, and was being guided around and back in the direction of the door again.

"Where we going?"

Her usual, deep voice softened when she finally answered. "I need a smoke."

We were outside, standing beneath the brilliant rays of noon sunshine. Francie pulled a pack of cigarettes from her shirt pocket, offered me one, and went ahead and lit one for herself, after I hesitantly and very reluctantly refused the offer. She took a long drag on the cigarette before she told me the real reason for our departure of the building. "Too many ears in there for you to be askin' me about the murder."

"How'd you know that's what I came here for?"

We exchanged looks and I had my answer. Francie knew me as well as she did the boys in uniform she worked around.

"So, what's the story?"

"Don't know. The state boys got this one. Ethel was found outside the borough limits."

Stupid. Stupid. Sometimes you should try using that mass of mush between your ears, old gal, that inner voice badgered. If I had, I would have known Ethel's case was in the hands of the state police.

But wait a minute, Mitch never told me the exact location of the refrigerator, in which Ethel's body was found. The only thing he mentioned was the woods and someone's dump site. When I remembered that, I felt a little better about myself. So just maybe I was smarter than I gave myself credit for.

"Did hear, though," Francie said with another deep inhale that I took with her. Only, I didn't taste or feel the smoke drifting down to my lungs.

And, oh, how I wanted to.

"The boys have them a lead in crackin' the case," she finally finished with her exhale.

My eyes widened. I didn't need a hit of nicotine to the system. The adrenaline was beginning to pump through me. And I was too impatient to wait for Francie to enjoy another deep drag to hear the details.

"So what is it?"

"That I don't know."

I felt like someone stuck me with a pin, bursting the bubble of anticipation. The sensation was worse than not experiencing a hit from her cigarette. When I saw Mitch's pickup turn into the parking lot, the pin hole was sealed before I could blink.

"Look, Francie, I gotta go, but if you hear any-"

"Yeah, I'll keep you posted."

I had the door to my car opened, thinking I was going to make it inside and off the lot without any kind of exchange with Mitch. I thought wrong.