Doubled Up (Imogene Museum Mystery #2) Read Online Free Page A

Marge fired a warning glance my direction.
    “Well, maybe I lost it,” Terry mumbled. “Don’t remember.”
    “ Uh-huh. Well, my deputy’s going to come sit here with you while I get into the database and dig up your license,” Sheriff Marge said.
    “ Uh, one thing,” I said. “I need Terry to move the truck. It’s blocking the view of the museum’s entrance. We get so few visitors as it is, I’d hate to make it even harder for them to find their way into the building. We’re opening in twenty minutes.”
    Sheriff Marge blew out a big breath. “Okay.”
    She pointed at Terry. “Park your rig down by the marina, out of the way. It’s staying there until we figure this out.”
    Terry sidled by Sheriff Marge, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye.
    I waited a second and then whispered, “What’d I miss?”
    “ Not much,” Sheriff Marge replied in an undertone as we followed Terry at a discrete distance. “He was downright chatty about the guys who robbed him. Swears there were at least two, maybe three or four because the only way he could be waylaid is if they ganged up on him. Claims he doesn’t remember anything after getting hit on the head.”
    I arched my eyebrows.
    “Yeah, I know. Arrogant little peacock.”
    “ But why was he here in the middle of the night?”
    “ Closer to 4 a.m. No good explanation. Just said he was early. Said he was stretching his legs before catching some shut-eye when he was jumped. He thought they’d planned it, were waiting for him.”
    “ So they knew what was in the trailer.” I caught the right front door on its swinging rebound from Terry’s forceful shove and held it open for Sheriff Marge.
    “ Not sure how much to believe.” Sheriff Marge sighed. “Especially since he completely clammed up when I started asking questions about him personally.”
    We stopped on the sidewalk and watched Terry stalk to the cab, climb in and slam the door. “By the way, providing excuses for a hostile witness is not a great idea.”
    “ Sorry,” I said. “I was thinking out loud.”
    The truck engine snorted to life and coughed a cloud of black smoke out the high exhaust pipe. Dale jogged around the trailer and held his arms out in a questioning gesture. Sheriff Marge nodded her plastic-covered hat in answer.
    Dale ambled up to us. “Not much on the ground. Looks like they opened one or two cases to check the contents, and that’s what the splintered wood fragments are from. I think they took the rest of the cases unopened, except the one they missed.”
    “ Did Terry say anything about hearing or seeing another vehicle in the parking lot?” I asked. “That crate was heavy. They’d have needed a van or pickup or something larger to haul thirteen of them.”
    Sheriff Marge ’s answer was drowned in the grinding of gears as Terry swung the truck in a tight turn to clear the curbs marking the handicapped parking spots and my pickup beyond them. I held my breath as the semi’s left front fender came within a handbreadth of my truck’s back bumper. Then Terry straightened the trailer and moved toward the marina at the far end of the long shared parking lot.
    “ No,” Sheriff Marge reanswered.
    “ Do you think he was in on it?” I asked.
    “ Always a possibility.”
    “ Hey,” Dale said. “He’s making a run for it.”
    Instead of slowing and pulling the truck to the edge of the lot, Terry turned onto the access road toward the highway.
    “Maybe he’s going to back into position,” I said.
    “ I don’t think so,” Dale called over his shoulder as he ran to his squad car. Terry was picking up speed.
    “ I thought he was belligerent, but not stupid,” Sheriff Marge muttered. She trotted to her SUV, poncho flapping behind, and hoisted her bulky frame into the seat. She gunned the engine and took off with a squeal of tires, the door smacking shut on its own.
    Dale ’s Crown Vic and Sheriff Marge’s Explorer converged on the semi truck, lights