Tightrope (Burning Cove #3)(7)



That information should have come as a relief, Amalie thought. Instead it just confirmed her earlier suspicion. Matthias Jones was most likely connected to the mob.

“If you’re not a detective,” she said, “why should we let you look at Dr. Pickwell’s room?”

Matthias regarded her with eyes that revealed nothing except glacial-cold control.

“Pickwell didn’t make it,” he said. “He died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.”

Hazel sighed. “Oh, dear.”

Amalie did not take her attention off Matthias.

“I see,” she said. “I’m very sorry to hear that. But I still don’t understand why we should allow you to examine his belongings.”

“It’s a long story and one I’m not at liberty to discuss. All I can tell you is that I’m tracking a killer. I have reason to believe that he murdered Pickwell tonight.”

Hazel’s brows snapped together. “So, you are a detective?”

“I thought I made it clear,” Matthias said. “I’m not a cop. I’m conducting an investigation for a friend.”

Amalie eyed him. “You’re a private investigator?”

“Something like that.”

“What is there to investigate?” Hazel demanded. “Futuro, the robot, shot Dr. Pickwell. We saw the whole thing. Everyone in the audience was a witness, including you.”

“The robot pulled the trigger of the gun,” Matthias said. “But I’m certain that the person I’m after arranged for that to happen.”

“How is that possible?” Amalie said.

“I don’t know,” Matthias said. “With luck, there will be something in Pickwell’s room that will answer that question.”

He reached inside his jacket. Amalie stopped breathing.

But Matthias did not pull out his gun. Instead he handed her a card with a phone number on it.

“Call that number,” he said.

She started breathing again. “Who is going to answer?”

“A detective with the Burning Cove police. His name is Brandon. He’s in charge of the investigation into Pickwell’s death. He can assure you that I’m authorized to examine Pickwell’s room.”

Amalie looked at Hazel, who shrugged.

“Make the call,” Hazel said. “We don’t need any more trouble.”

Amalie crossed the room to the front desk and picked up the receiver of the enameled white and gold telephone. The ornate phone, along with the rest of the furnishings, had come with the villa.

She dialed the number. A gruff, masculine voice answered.

“Brandon. Homicide.”

Amalie heard the clacking of typewriter keys and masculine voices in the background.

“This is Amalie Vaughn at the Hidden Beach Inn,” she said. “I’ve got a Mr. Matthias Jones here. He says that he has the authority to examine the guest room that was booked by Dr. Pickwell. Is that correct?”

“Yeah,” Brandon said. He sounded weary. “Let Jones look at whatever he wants.”

“I don’t understand,” Amalie said. “If this is police business, why aren’t you or someone else from the department handling the investigation?”

“Because it’s not police business, thank the Almighty. It’s Luther Pell’s personal business. That means that people like you and me want to stay as far away from it as possible. Understand?”

“Yes,” Amalie said, “I certainly do understand. There is nothing I would like better than to stay out of Luther Pell’s business, but I seem to have landed in the middle of it.”

There was a long sigh on the other end of the line.

“I know. Sorry about that, Miss Vaughn. My advice? Cooperate with Jones. The sooner he gets his look around Pickwell’s room, the sooner he’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you for that very helpful advice, Detective Brandon.”

She lowered the receiver into the cradle and looked at Matthias Jones.

“Follow me,” she said.

“Thanks,” Matthias said. “I appreciate the cooperation.”

“Don’t thank me. Hazel and I are new in town but we’ve been here long enough to figure out how things work. You’re a friend of Luther Pell’s and Pell is one of the people who control this town. That means he also controls the Burning Cove Police Department.”

“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“No, Mr. Jones,” Amalie said. “It’s a fact of life here in Burning Cove.”





Chapter 4


Amalie Vaughn did not approve of him. She had only just met him, but she had already leaped to the conclusion that, like Luther, he had connections to the underworld.

She was right.

He wanted to tell her that there were extenuating circumstances, but he knew from past experience that trying to explain his personal situation was problematic. The dilemma was that he could not risk giving her too much information for a couple of reasons. The first was that if she was not involved in Pickwell’s murder, he did not want to drag her any deeper into the business. The less she knew, the better off she was, at least for now.

The second reason he could not tell her what was going on was that he had no way of knowing yet if he could trust her.

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