A Match Made for Murder by Iona Whishaw (top 10 best books of all time txt) 📗

“Come on! I’m not going to hurt you,” he coaxed. “Come around and hop in.” He leaned away from her to push the passenger side door open.

She looked nervously down the hill to where the garage lay basking in the June sun, imagining her father inside working, her mother in the house or out feeding the chickens, and then she went around and got in. The man moved his hat from the seat and tossed it into the back.

But he didn’t drive. He put his arm up on the back of the seat so that his hand was near her head. “What’s your name, then?”

“Tina,” she said, barely above a whisper. She felt the presence of his hand acutely but would not have been able to name what she was feeling. She pushed her hand into her pocket to hold the little embroidered purse her grandmother had given her. It had her name on it. It always made her feel secure.

“Mine’s Barney Watts. You can call me Barney. Your dad run that garage?”

“Yes, Mr. Watts.” She had never called a grown-up by a first name in her life. His invitation felt like a door opening up into some place she had no business going.

“Barney, I told you,” he said, laughing. “You’re a pretty thing, I’ll say that. School all done now?”

“Yes. I’m graduating this year. Today was the last day.” She didn’t dare look at him, so she stared at the book bag she had on her lap.

“Well, you’re all grown up then. What are you, now, seventeen, eighteen?” His hand had moved, and he fingered a blond curl.

“Sixteen,” she said, feeling breathless. He was nothing like the boys at school.

“Sixteen! That’s pretty young to be graduating.”

“I skipped fifth grade,” she said. She wanted to pull her head back, away from his hand, to get out, to have the world be as it was only a few minutes before.

“Pretty and smart! Bet you have a boyfriend. Hey, there’s your dad.” Mr. Van Eyck had come out of the garage and was standing looking up the road toward them. He pulled his right hand back to the steering wheel and looked at his watch. “I promised him I’d bring the car in by four and it’s ten after.”

As he put the car into gear and trundled down the road to the garage, Tina exhaled relief slowly so he wouldn’t think she’d been nervous.

“What are you going to do now you’ve done with school?” Barney asked.

“I’m going to help my dad in the garage.” She was feeling normal again, happy as they approached the open bay doors where her father stood, just as he always did. She liked working on cars.

“You don’t say!” Barney stopped the car and waved at Mr. Van Eyck who had moved to the shade of the bay, hands on hips, watching them, his eyebrows drawn together. Barney went to open his door and then leaned back toward her. “You should let me take you out some time. Pretty girl like you. I could show you a good time like you deserve. Celebrate your graduation. What do you say?” He dropped his voice. “You wait for me at the top of the road next Saturday at eight, eh?” Without waiting for an answer, he got out of the car and waved at her father and called out, “Thanks for doing this. I’m on the road tomorrow, and I’m just not sure about the clutch.”

Martinez said, “Martinez” into the receiver, wishing the phone would just stop ringing for five minutes. It never rained, but it poured. Not only was the Griffin business weighing on him, with its attendant anger from Galloway, he had the murder at the Santa Cruz Inn to think about, and he was fielding any number of minor calls about missing animals and a robbery from a tobacco shop in South Tucson, which he had to deal because none of their officers was available and he spoke Spanish.

“Good morning, Sergeant Martinez, this is Inspector Darling. I’m sorry to bother you again. I tried Assistant Chief Galloway and he’s not in just now.”

Martinez shook his head. He liked the inspector. He’d found himself wishing out loud to his wife the night before that Galloway was more like the inspector. “No trouble at all, sir. How can I help?”

“It’s just that my wife and I had dinner with Jack Renwick’s brother last night, as he was on his own, and he expressed a great deal of bitterness about his brother, said he was glad he was dead. It seems he was in love with his brother’s wife and this would free her up, as he sees it. Unfortunately for him, she doesn’t see it that way and has refused to talk to him. He’s short of money and is moving out today to a rooming house near the station. He says he has leave from the insurance company he works for, Equity House Insurance Company. I know you interviewed him yesterday, and I certainly don’t want to interfere, but I am uneasy about him. He drinks excessively, and he’s angry. I’m a bit worried about Mrs. Renwick’s safety.” He stopped short of recommending any particular course of action, though he wondered how long she was expected to stay on.

“I see,” Martinez said. He had written down the name of the insurance company and circled it with a question mark. Renwick had not mentioned it. In fact, he’d said he worked for his brother’s company still, in some minor capacity.

When he hung up, he pulled his notes toward him. It seemed to him there were only two possible avenues of inquiry. It was possible Meg Holden had something to do with it. She was standing right next to him; though she certainly hadn’t shot him, she might know who had. Darling had called to tell him that she’d been spotted on Stone Avenue talking to