Read Death of a Bankster for Free Online

the key next door. I doubt we’ll be here more than two hours. Will you be up that long?”
    “Paige won’t be. I’ll get her to sleep. When you come by Sunday afternoon, Paige may still be over at my place. If you don’t find her at home, come on over. Mine is the house on that side.” Carla pointed. Agent Powell nodded. “As for tonight, I’ll be up. Come by when you’re done.”

Chapter 5
    Paige entered the kitchen and looked at Carla who was cutting something on the counter.
    “Good morning, Paige. Have you been over to your place yet this morning?”
    “I went over last night, after you went to bed. I was just ready, I guess. Couldn’t sleep so I went over, just to get it over with, I suppose. It was tough, but I got it out of my system, at least I did after a good cry. The house was, I don’t know, cold, just an empty house, not my home. I’m sure that sounds screwy.”
    “No it doesn’t.” Carla stopped slicing a melon and stood with a knife in her hand. “I suspect that’s normal. Give it some time. You’re welcome to stay with me until whenever.”
    “Thanks, Carla. Okay, let’s move on. It’s Monday morning and I haven’t heard from those FBI Agents. It’s been more than three days. Have they called you?”
    Carla carried a tray with a carafe of coffee, two mugs, a plate of buttered English Muffins, and a bowl of sliced cantaloupe to the table. “I haven’t heard from them since they brought your key back before they left Thursday night. I just assumed they’d ring your cell.”
    “They haven’t. Agent Powell did say he’d come by Sunday around noon. That was yesterday. I’m sure he said that, although I admit I was in a fog at the time. Did you hear him?”
    “That’s what he said. He also spoke about a local homicide cop. Maybe they each thought the other would contact you. That kind of thing happens all the time at the hospital.”
    “What do you think I should do?”
    Carla poured coffee into the mugs. “You should go down to the Phoenix police department. For some reason I think the homicide department’s on Washington. Would you like me to go with you? I can get the morning off, if I call in right away.”
    “No. I’m okay. You’ve been wonderful. You go on to work. I can handle it.” Paige sipped her coffee, wincing a bit at its fresh heat. “I’ll go over to my place. It’ll be easier the second time. I’ll get cleaned up there and check on the address on Washington. Don’t worry about me. I’ll fill you in, tonight.”
    “You sure, honey? Here you should eat a little something.” Carla put a buttered muffin on one of the plates together with a few slices of the melon and set it in front of Paige.
    “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. You go on to the hospital, really. We can have dinner tonight. Okay?”
    “Absolutely, we’ll go out and get something and wash it down with lots of booze.”
    “Maybe, let’s see how I feel after you get home. Okay?”
    They agreed on a loose plan to meet up around six in Carla’s house. “You come right in, honey, whenever you want. You consider this your home too. There’s plenty of room so anytime you don’t feel like being, you know, alone just come on over.”
    * * *
    Paige approached the officer on duty at the front desk. “My name is Paige Crawford. I’m here about the murder of my husband Samuel Crawford. I believe the FBI contacted you about it late last Thursday or perhaps very early on Friday.”
    “Give me a moment, Mrs. Crawford. Let me find out which officer is handling that case.” After more time than Paige thought it should have taken, the officer looked back at her. “I’m sorry. I don’t show a homicide case under that name. Am I spelling it correctly? C-r-a-w-f-o-r-d. Is that right?”
    “Yes. That’s correct. What do you mean you don’t show a case? My husband was murdered at our front door four days ago and you have no record of it? What is going on?”
    “Please have a seat ma’am, ah, Mrs.