Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight) by Blake Pierce (books to read for 13 year olds .txt) 📗

Adele’s shoulder at the phone in Anita’s hand,frowning even deeper as she too read the dates.

“Your wife’s passing,” Adele said,turning back now. “Any idea who might have wanted her dead?”

“All want dead!” he declared,smiling now and wagging his head. “Yes. Here,” he said, suddenly reaching intohis pocket, pulling out a wallet and peeling off two crisp hundred-euro notes.He flung them at Adele. “Give gift to killer. Hmm? Thanks him. Thanks! Verythanks!” He grinned now, nodding quickly and wiggling his fingers toward thebills fluttering to the ground.

“You don’t seem too upset aboutit,” Adele said, feeling her own frustration still pulsing in her chest.

He snorted and reached for hisdaughter now, trying to tug at her. Anita reluctantly joined her father, pattinghim consolingly on his hairy arm and trying to pull him through the doorway.

“We didn’t say you could leave,”Adele snapped.

The man hesitated, framed in thedoor, glancing sidelong at his daughter, back to Adele, and then licking hislips slowly.

Adele paused, considering it allfor a moment. The social media photos suggested the man had spent all nightwith his girlfriend. An accomplice? Given the state of them, and the redness ofhis cheeks, though, he was still wearing off a hangover. Was that the sort ofman to plot out a route through a security system, lure a smart and competentwoman, and kill her without leaving a trace?

Looks could be deceiving. Timestamps, less so. She couldn’t fully cross the infuriating man off the list, buthe wasn’t at the top. Besides, she’d already made a scene.

Her nerves, her temper—all of itfelt out of whack. She felt like a rookie again, wishing someone was around toshow her through the ropes once more. She missed John… missed Robert… Butsometimes, no amount of wishful thinking made an ounce of difference.

“Now you can go,” Adele said,pointedly glaring at the red-faced Herrera.

He turned before she’d evenfinished, dragging his daughter toward the door and muttering a series ofItalian words Adele didn’t need a dictionary to interpret, leaving the DGSIagents standing in the otherwise abandoned dining room.

Adele traced a finger along theoak table, wincing against a headache but at last looking up to meet AgentPaige’s frown.

“Not protocol, Sharp,” Paige saidslowly.

Adele shrugged. “Sorry. I’ll dobetter. Just a bit of jet lag.”

“Right, jet lag…”

Adele winced, but nodded. The lastperson she’d confide in was Agent Paige. Besides, Paige was close withFoucault, and the Executive had made it clear: any whiff of unprofessional behaviorand he’d take her off the case.

Adele needed the work. She neededthis and so she just nodded, trying to force a smile at Paige and saying, “Don’tthink it’s him. Doesn’t seem the sort.”

“The pictures aren’t an airtightalibi.”

“No. I guess not. But they’reenough that I think our next stop should be the coroner.” Adele half expectedPaige to protest, if only to be contrarian. So it was much to her surprise whenthe older woman paused in thought, but then nodded once, adjusting her suit andbrushing past Adele. She strode with clicking footsteps down the hall and towardthe front where the taxi driver was still running their meter.

Adele stood in the old mansion,beneath the fake chandelier…

Robert’s house was a bit smaller,but not by much. And his sense in décor was infinitely better. Or, at least hadbeen.

Was the coroner the best step?

Maybe talking to some of theboard? What about the first victim in London?

So many options. Adele winced,trying to think it through. She heard the front door open and shut as AgentPaige made her escape from the old house.

Normally, Adele wasn’t the type toendlessly second-guess. But now she wasn’t sure. The coroner? The victim inLondon? The board?

At last, she sighed and just shookher head, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. Maybe it really was jet lag… Ifnot, she was beginning to feel unraveled.

One step at a time. That’s all.Every case was one step at a time. What other choice was there? Lives were onthe line. Nothing to boost a mood like staring at a corpse.

Adele shivered and turned slowly,walking up the hallway in the direction of the roundabout and the waiting taxi.Coroner it was. One step…

…At a time.

One kill at a time.

She’d just have to keep up.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Agent Paige leaned down, glancingthrough the window. “Tip is included,” she said, frowning toward where thedriver waited expectantly. The man’s features twisted into a scowl which Paigewas happy to return. She made a shooing motion. “Go. We’re done with you.”

The man muttered darkly a coupleof times, and then with a screech of tires peeled away from the curb, movingback out into the night.

Paige turned now, facing the smallcoroner’s office on the outskirts of Milan, bordered by an old, blockyindustrial building and a row of small eateries with names she couldn’tpronounce. She turned with stiff motions, approaching the door to the coroner’swhere Agent Sharp waited, one hand braced against the glass, her eyes staringoff into the distance as if tracking some weather pattern on the horizon.

Paige approached the youngerwoman, frowning as she did.

Agent Sharp had never been herfavorite person, especially not after that business nearly ten years ago. Theyounger woman had nearly ruined Paige’s career. Adele had protested herinnocence more than once, but some betrayals were unforgivable regardless of anapology.

Now, though, as she approached thedoor held open by the younger woman, Paige couldn’t help but examine Adelewhere she stood.

The young agent was headstrong andoften shirked protocol, but she was a competent operative. Competent enough, atleast. Naive and inexperienced, in Sophie’s opinion, but still with anacceptable closure rate… Well, perhaps if she was being fair a bit more thanacceptable. The only person who had a better closure rate in the DGSI was thelate Robert Henry, Adele’s mentor.

Paige hesitated on the sidewalkbefore brushing past the younger woman without comment, stepping into the dingylower level of the small coroner’s office. She resisted the urge to glance backat first, but when no sounds came in pursuit, Paige paused in a doorway,regarding Sharp.

The woman remained in the frame,the vacant look in her eyes.

“You coming?” Paige said, raisingher voice.

Adele didn’t seem to hear.

“Hey!” Paige snapped. “Are youcoming?” she enunciated.

Adele blinked and looked over. Shenodded swiftly and stepped into the