Overdue for Murder (Pecan Bayou) Read Online Free Page B

the chief of police, Arvin Wilson. Dad handled patrols, court appearances, traffic violations, drugs, domestic disturbances and an occasional murder. The one case he had never solved was the disappearance of my own husband, Barry. He told me he felt he had let me and Zach down. When I discovered the murdered body of my husband's ex-partner last Halloween, I had the opportunity to learn what he was like when he was on a case. He could be grumpy and demanding, but he was smart and sought the truth no matter what.

    When I was twelve years old, I decided to try smoking out behind the garage. My dad knew what I had been doing immediately even though I sprayed room freshener everywhere except down my own throat.

    "Betsy," he had said. "You haven't been smokin' now, have you?"

    "Of course not," I'd answered, wondering if I was blasting him with smoker's breath. I tried to sound wounded that he would ever suspect me of doing such a terrible thing.

    "Good to know. By the way, there are some ashes on your shirt."

    I brushed off my breast pocket as if there were a swarm of cockroaches on it.

    "Gotcha."

    My dad reached in for a second donut, barely avoiding George Beckman's big square hand. "You can only take two in the squad car, George," said Mrs. Thatcher. "I don't want to be cleaning up sticky stuff off the equipment again."

    George was a large man at over six-foot-three, and he had a cap of blonde hair that was thinning on the top. He wore the Pecan Bayou Police uniform of navy blue, and just the appearance of him in any crowd situation could quiet down some pretty rowdy folks. That is, until he opened his mouth and began speaking. For some reason, George was blessed with a high voice that sometimes made me think of him as a mix between Mickey Mouse and SpongeBob. His lovely voice could be heard in the Episcopal church choir every Sunday morning as he sang in beautiful Irish tenor tones. He squeaked out a resigned "Yes ma'am."

    My dad and I walked over to his office. "Can we talk?" I walked in behind him and shut his office door.

    "Uh oh, this is never good," he said as he sat in his soft black leather office chair, still balancing the donut between his fingers.

    "Fitzpatrick called me yesterday."

    "He's done that before, right?"

    "Yes, but he has invited me to come to Dallas for the weekend."

    "And you've done that before, right?"

    "Yes I have, but this time he wants to see me without the boys being around."

    He nodded in recognition. "Did you want me to take Zach for the weekend?"

    I breathed in deeply and let out a sigh. "I don't know, Dad. I wish I did."

    He popped the remainder of the donut in his mouth. "I see. Let me ask you – do you want to go to Dallas?"

    "Yes," I answered, blushing. "And no. You know, Dad, this is the first ... time since Barry I've even considered ..."

    "I get it, you don't need to go any further with that," he stopped me. "This is something you need to think about, Betsy, but whatever you decide, it's going to be okay."

    "I know. Fitzpatrick is a nice guy and all, I'm just not sure I'm ready."

    "Would you like to know what I would do if it were me?"

    I nodded.

    "Go to Dallas. For the last eight years I've watched you work hard, raise my grandson, and even though Barry did what he did, you kept on goin'. I think you deserve to have a little fun in your life. Now mind you, I wouldn't be saying this if I hadn't already done an extensive background check on him."

    "Really? You did?"

    "You bet your sweet ..." He stopped himself. "Yes I did," he admitted. His face took on a gentle expression I had seen countless times in my life, and it never failed to calm me. He was right – it was time.

    That evening, after I put Zach to bed, I picked up the phone and punched in Fitzpatrick's number. I could feel my heart beating through my rib cage and a slight queasiness in my stomach. Why was I acting like this? I was just going to Dallas for a weekend. I certainly had been to Dallas before,