Page 25 of Hostile Witness

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Page 25 of Hostile Witness

Ethan glanced over. “It’s a half inch long, sir.”

“Like I said—I need a haircut.”

They pulledthe crime-scene tape off the front door, slid into their paper booties, and stepped into Plante’s home. The chill in the air hung like a warning. Something sinister had happened in those rooms.

“You got any idea when Mrs. Stoddard is listing the house? Because there’s no way anyone’s going to buy it looking like this.” Earl frowned and shook his head. “You know, I can handle any crime scene no matter how horrific, but once I’ve done my job, I hate going back to the place. It’s always been that way for me. It’s hard for me to take once the crisis is over.”

Ethan studied the framed pictures on a mahogany bookshelf, snapped a few pictures, and put his phone away. “I believe Mrs. Stoddard has turned the details of the sale, including the cleanup, over to her lawyer. They haven’t started yet because forensics hasn’t signed off on the property. You know how they like to wait as long as possible just in case they need another run-through.”

Earl heaved a breath, flicked on the overheads, and fired up his flashlight. He scanned the entire kitchen floor. “I don’t see a damn thing down there. Did Tia mention if the object she kicked was heavy or lightweight?”

“No, she simply remembers kicking something right after entering this kitchen. She said the sound stopped abruptly, so it couldn’t have gone far.” Ethan got down on all fours and prowled the gleaming wood floor one sector at a time.

Earl followed suit. “ Hell, I didn’t bring my kneepads. There are four floor vents. Let’s check them.”

They crawled for several minutes in an eerie quiet.

Ethan broke the intense silence. “There’s nothing here. You find anything?”

Earl cackled. “I’m cashing in over this way. The vents produced three toothpicks, a penny, and a couple of dust bunnies. This is the cleanest kitchen floor I’ve ever seen.” He rose up on his knees. “You brought the leather work gloves, right?”

Ethan pulled a pair out of each pocket. “Here you go. What are we moving?”

“The refrigerator, Son. Tia’s a smart woman. I’ve known her her whole life. If she says she kicked something, then I believe her.” He stood up. “Try to shimmy that fridge out from the front.”

Ethan gave the refrigerator doors a pull, and the huge unit slid several inches before it stubbornly stopped. He hugged it from the front, and through the process of drag and tug, he got it out except for the last few inches. Earl joined in, and together they got the unit completely out.

Their flashlights illuminated the floor behind the fridge. “There we go, a plastic spatula. Let’s bag it just in case, but that utensil probably dropped off the counter when Margie was cooking.” Earl snapped a photo of the spatula and placed it in a thick tamperproof bag.

Ethan grabbed one side of the fridge. “Help me slide this behemoth back in place.” With a few grunts, the unit begrudgingly slid back.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Ethan asked.

“Yup. We gotta pull the range out, too. It’s a Chambers gas stove from the previous century and is sure to weigh a ton. Look at that—it’s even got a thermowell with a pot for cooking corn or crabs. You ready?”

Ethan stretched for a few seconds. “As I’ll ever be. Let’s go.” It took them five minutes, a few cuss words, and a good sweat, but the aging gray combination stove and oven rested in the middle of the kitchen floor. Ethan aimed his light toward the cavernous space behind it. “There’s nothing back there.”

Earl got down on all fours and cast his light under the stove. “There’s something caught on the slide mechanism, probably why it was a bear to pull out. I mean, aside from the fact that it’s the weight of a heifer.” He wiped his brow with a sleeve. “We gotta tip it back a couple of inches so I can get at it.”

Ethan shook his head. “Are you trying to kill me? This cast-iron mother must weigh three hundred pounds.”

“I know. That’s why I make our crew participate in hell workouts. We gotta do the hard stuff or go home. Let’s slide it back a foot so that when we tip it it’ll rest against the counter.”

Ethan inhaled quickly through his teeth while Earl let out a string of coaxing curses until the stove rested at a slight angle against the countertop.

Earl slid a few cookbooks under the unit in case it rocked. He traded his leather gloves for a fresh pair of latex gloves and illuminated the underside. Stretching his arm, he captured a compact shiny metal device about four inches long between two fingers. “I found something. Looks like a penknife.” He dropped it into the evidence bag Ethan was holding.

Ethan held it up to the light. “That’s not a penknife. It’s a miniature lock pick set and probably the item Tia kicked across the floor, judging by how it was jammed in there. We’ll let forensics check it out. I’ll bet you a beer after our next workout that Margie Plante’s fingerprints are nowhere to be found on this thing.”

“Don’t count your chickens,” Earl chirped.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Let’s get this stove back in place. I’ve been meaning to ask: When’s the last time you checked on Harlan Brinker?”

Ethan grunted as he shoved the oven backward. “I saw him a few days ago, after I went to see the Hawkins couple. Mabel inquired about Harlan because she knows him from church. Then she asked if I’d deliver a frozen lasagna she’d made for him. He seemed pretty good. There was food in the fridge and a forty-pound bag of dog food in the pantry, even a bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter. I was a little late meeting Tia at the vet to pick up Flynn because I’d stopped to see Harlan, and you know Harlan. He can talk your ear off.”

Earl nodded. “Thanks for checking on him. I’ll go next week and take a pie from the farmer’s market that just reopened in the Pines. He’s had a rough year since losing his wife, and not having any family nearby to look after him makes it that much harder. I had to show him how to use the washing machine and dryer a while back.” Earl took off his gloves. “Helluva thing Mrs. Stoddard did, making you co-owner of that dog. Talk about getting blindsided. I guess you’re spending some time over at Tia’s, huh?”




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