Read Bob Moats - Jim Richards 01-03- 3 for Murder Box Set for Free Online Page B

my card with my cell on the back. If you get any more emails threatening your life, call me immediately.”
     
    He looked past me and saw Buck.
     
    “Well, hello, George,” he said to Buck, then turned his attention back to me. “Richards, are you cavorting with criminals, too?”
     
    Buck took issue. “Trapper, I haven’t been in any trouble in years! I gave up my wild ways. And I was never a criminal! Just a misguided youth.”
     
    “Back when I was a patrol cop, George gave us a run for about ten miles down Gratiot Avenue in his Barracuda. We chased him through three cities and six parking lots before we finally corralled him with tire spikes by the mall. It was a chase that made the papers and was the talk of the precinct for days. Luckily no one was injured.”
     
    “Except me. After the chase,” Buck lamented.
     
    “Well, it seemed you were resisting arrest, George.” Trapper smiled.
     
    “Bullshit,” Buck said under his breath not loud enough for Trapper to hear.
     
    “Buck is a good friend of mine and still works for the security company I just left. He’s now wearing a badge and protecting property, so leave him be,” I defended Buck.
     
    “Damn, George with a badge. That’s like the reformed drunk owning a bar. OK, George, I guess I’m all right with your reformation. Richards, keep me informed.” He smiled, saluted Buck and walked off.
     
    “He was one of the few cops that did treat me nicely, but he’s still a cop,” Buck said to the window.
     
    “If you got the time and can get over your past, I’d like to take a run by an address I have,” I said.
     
    “Where to, Spen-sahh?” he mocked.
     
    I grinned at the reference. “To visit a cheerleader who hopefully is still alive.”
     
     
     
    *
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
     
    We drove out of the city, just north of Mt. Clemens, and according to my map program on my Palm, we found the address. It was a beat up farmhouse looking like no one gave a crap whether it was falling down or not. The battered sign out front said “Sue’s Beauty Shop.” I presumed the shop was set up in the front of the house, so we went to the door.
     
    The sign on the door said to walk in and be seated. We did. There was no one in the room. It had two styling chairs in front of two sinks and counters with all the stuff to cut, curl and tease a woman’s hair. An elderly woman came out from where I presumed was the house part of the building and just looked at us.
     
    “I don’t do men’s hair. Besides, both of you are bald, so what do ya want?”
     
    I looked at her through the wrinkles and gaudy make-up and realized I was looking at Sue Carter, the head cheerleader and the Prom Queen. She now looked like a drag queen. I stood up.
     
    “Sue, you probably don’t remember me. Jim Richards, from our class in high school?”
     
    “Yeah, I think I do. You were always running around with a camera.” Her gaze looked a bit alcohol induced.
     
    “Yep, that was me. Could I ask you a few questions?”
     
    “Why, you a cop?” she slurred.
     
    “No, just a friend of Dee Wittenfield and Joyce Harper.”
     
    Her eyes perked up a bit on hearing that.
     
    “Wow, there’s two names I haven’t heard in a while. What are those two bitches up to?” She sat on one of the styling chairs and lit a cigarette.
     
    “Well, they’re both dead.” I could have said it politer, but I didn’t want to beat around the bush.
     
    That seemed to shake her just a bit. “No shit! Old age?”
     
    “No, murdered. Both within the last two days.”
     
    That really shook her. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth slowly opened, but no sound came out. The cigarette hung off her lip.
     
    “And Marge Holden was killed this morning at her business.” She sat quietly. “Seems someone is after the cheerleaders, huh, Sue?”
     
    She seemed to be thinking.
     
    I got closer and asked, “Have you gotten any threatening emails lately that you thought might