Read Murder Alfresco #3 for Free Online

place.”
    Sunny thanked him and waited. The room was very quiet. She could hear kids playing in the distance.
    “You want something to drink?” said Steve, ticking his finger against the can of Diet Coke on his desk. “Soda, coffee, water?”
    Sunny declined.
    “We’ll get started then.” He punched a button on the tape recorder on his desk and cleared his throat. “Second interview with Sonya McCoskey regarding Vedana Vineyards homicide.” He recited the basics of the case, staring through the office window at the hallway as he did so.
    Sunny studied his profile. He had grown a scrappy blond mustache that wrapped around the corners of his mouth Village People-style, something which had escaped her notice last night. As always, his short hair was combed vertically and frozen in place with hair gel. With his rigid posture and muscular physique, he might have looked intimidating, if it weren’t for the baby face complete with bewildered brown eyes that no amount of official police business seemed to harden. He finished his summary of the facts and turned to Sunny.
    “Let’s take it from the top. Tell us everything you can remember about last night, starting with when you left the Dusty Vinewith Andre Morales. Walk us through it like we’re hearing it for the first time.”
    Sunny went over everything that had happened. Steve and the other officer listened, nodding occasionally. When she got to the part where she heard the truck by Vedana Vineyards, Steve held up his hand.
    “Hold right there. Go back a little,” he said. “How long had you been walking by then?”
    “It’s hard to say exactly. Twenty minutes, maybe more?”
    “And you left the party at what time?”
    “Around two-twenty. I looked at the clock.”
    “So it’s around two-forty, maybe two-forty-five at this point.”
    “That’s probably about right.”
    “Had you seen or heard any other cars since you left the party?”
    “Nothing.”
    She went on. They listened for a moment, then stopped her again with questions, going over every angle of the truck she’d seen. Could she tell what make it was? Was it new or old? Was there a tool box, rack, or anything else in the back? Did it have a company logo? All she could be sure of was that it was white, didn’t have a shell, and had some kind of logo on the door.
    “That’s all I took in,” said Sunny. “I couldn’t say for sure what make or year it was. It wasn’t a Toyota, I know that. It had an American body. You know, boxier and wider looking.”
    “What about the logo?” said Officer Jute. “You didn’t mention that before.”
    “I remembered because I was wondering what gave me the impression it was a work truck. I think it was something circular, and printed in a dark color. I just caught an impression as it went by.”
    “You say you nearly waved the truck down,” said Steve. “Why?”
    “For a second, I thought I would try to let them know their lights weren’t on. You know, like when you flash your lights at somebody. Then I changed my mind.”
    “Why?”
    “I didn’t want them to see me. I was out there in the middle of the night with no one around. It didn’t seem safe. I didn’t want to invite the interaction. Also, I think I decided that maybe their lights were off on purpose. I’ve done that before on a country road. Turned off the lights and driven in the dark for a little while, just for fun.”
    Steve and Jute exchanged a look, whether disapproving or conspiratorial, Sunny couldn’t say which.
    “You didn’t want the driver to see you,” said Steve, “but they did see you, correct?”
    “I’m not sure,” said Sunny, rubbing the knot on her head from when she had passed out that morning. “It seems likely. The driver turned his lights on right as he passed me. That’s why I didn’t get much more than an impression of the truck. I was blinded for a second.”
    “And then?”
    “It accelerated away down Madrona, headed east toward twenty-nine. I