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

and dropped to her haunchesagain, frowning toward the broken ceramic pieces. She looked back toward thebarn and then swiveled, glancing in the direction of the large mansion loomingbehind the trees. It was barely visible from here.

“The husband, is he still up at the house?” Adele asked.

The red-haired officer who’d found the mug nodded once. “Hetook the news horribly. Hasn’t left his room. His sister-in-law is on her wayover, though. She might be able to provide more information.”

Adele swallowed, tapping her fingers against her thigh. “Itlooks like Mrs. Schmidt was out for a morning walk. Carrying the coffee mug,and then the killer surprised her—she dropped it and ran, but he chased herdown.” Adele felt a shiver along her spine; she thought about being chased inthe woods, no backup, no weapon. Nowhere to go. A familiar sensation of stagefright arose in her belly.

She clenched her teeth, pushing roughly back to her feetagain, and turned toward Agent Paige. “She has a husband. That’s different fromthe first two.”

Paige nodded, frowning. “Perhaps that’s why the killerwaited to strike until she was away from the house.”

Adele shook her head. “Which means he kept an eye on hertoo. To figure out her morning routine. He knew she’d come this way.”

Paige gnawed on the corner of her lip, her back to the barnand the body, some of the queasiness having faded from her pale features. “Shehas to be in her fifties also,” Paige said.

Adele glanced at her phone, scrolling to the file onSchmidt. “Fifty-five,” she replied.

“Wealthy,” Paige said, waving a hand in the direction ofthe mansion.

“Same as the first two. But not single.”

“No, I suppose not. The husband isn’t speaking?”

Adele shook her head, nodding toward the German officer. “Sayshe’s too distraught by the death. Can’t blame him. The sister-in-law is on herway…” At that moment, a sudden sound of voices and motion caught Adele’sattention. She turned, frowning. “Speak of the devil,” Adele said, trailingoff.

Confronting the relatives of a murder victim was never funto begin with. But from first impressions alone, this new arrival seemed thesort to make a difficult task nearly impossible.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Adele watched as another police officer escorted a small,plump woman through the black gate surrounding the swimming pool. The womanlooked to be in her sixties and walked with slow, shuffling steps, with onehand holding her large flowery hat in place, and the other carrying a smallpurse. The woman muttered darkly as she stepped daintily along the trail,trying not to sink into the soft grass and dirt with her high heel shoes. Atlast, she seemed to give up, and clicked her fingers toward the officer, as ifdemanding he take her arm. The German policeman looked mildly amused, but hidhis smile while reaching out, aiding the older woman across the grass towardthe barn.

Her cheeks were red, and she was huffing as she drewnearer, and Adele could hear her saying, “Don’t rip my arm out, you big brute.Careful, careful.”

The officer’s amusement faded somewhat at the abuse, but hestill helped steady the oddly dressed woman and guided her toward where Adeleand Agent Paige waited next to the shattered mug.

“Well?” the approaching woman said, in a demanding voice. “Whereis she? Where is my baby sister?”

Adele swallowed, feeling her stomach twist, but she heldout a placating hand, and in German, replied, “I’m very sorry Mrs.…” Shetrailed off, allowing the woman to fill in the blank.

“Schmidt. I’m also Schmidt.”

Adele’s brow furrowed in surprise.

The woman adjusted her purse, pushing back the brim of her hat.“My sister didn’t take her husband’s name. This isn’t the dark ages anymore,young lady.”

Adele blinked, but nodded slowly. The older Mrs. Schmidtglanced toward the snickering police officer behind Adele, and her red featuresturned even more crimson. “What are you gawking at? Go do something useful.”

The officer behind Adele blinked in surprise, stuttering,but Agent Paige just waved at him, and the man turned, hurrying back behind thebarn to rejoin the rest of the investigators.

“Well? Where is my sister?”

“You know why you were called here?” Adele said,hesitantly, and feeling a sudden surge of horror.

“Yes. She’s dead. So I was told. Where?”

The woman was small, round, red-faced, and old, but shebarked like a military sergeant. Adele had flashbacks of her own home in Germany,thinking of her father and his gruff nature. If he was a pit bull, this womanwas a pit bull crossed with a Doberman. Her eyes were narrowed, and she lookedready to bite.

“Yes, of course,” Adele said, quietly. “We’ll take you toher. It’s not a pleasant sight. But we do need help identifying the body.”

“Identifying? You’re telling me you don’t even know it’s mysister?”

Adele shook her head. “Your brother-in-law providedpictures. It’s her. We just need someone in person to confirm. Protocol andall.”

“Protocol?” The woman scoffed. “That’s why I’m here?”

“We had hoped you would also be able to answer a couple ofquestions for us, Mrs. Schmidt.”

“What sort of questions?”

“We’re trying to find the man who did this.”

“Man.” She scoffed. “Of course it was a man.”

“Do you mind answering some questions?”

“Well? What are they?”

Adele cleared her throat. “Did your sister have anyenemies? Anyone who might want her—”

“Dead? Strangled to death? Violently? In her own backyard?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“No, my sister was a kind woman. Gentle. She was the niceone in the family.”

Adele kept her expression placid.

For a moment, Mrs. Schmidt’s eyes narrowed even more, ifsuch a thing were possible, but then she shook her head at Adele. “No one hatedmy sister. No one. That husband of hers didn’t have enemies either. He’s assoft as a jelly doughnut. The perfect sort of man for my sister. He couldn’thave strangled a pillow, no less Elke.”

“All right. Do you have any idea who might’ve done this?”

“A sexual pervert.”

Adele blinked.

The older Mrs. Schmidt bobbed her head, brimming withcertainty.

“That’s who it always is,” she said, insistently. “Don’tthink I don’t see the news. A man. Definitely a man. A sexual pervert. That’swhat they do. They like strangling women. Mark my words, it was a pervert.”

“You know this?”

Mrs. Schmidt just shrugged. “Who else would it have been?”

Adele decided to change tack. “I had one other question.Your sister, was she religious