Read Still Life: The Randi Lassiter Series, Book 1 for Free Online Page A

much neighborhood to canvas. A couple of businesses—that’s it. And none of them open late. We’ll see what we get on security camera footage.”
    “Don’t suppose there are any traffic cams in the area?”
    Terri shook her head.
    Jon thought of how remote the motel was, how small the town.
    “You check the MOCIC for a match on missing persons?”
    “Yep, a bust.”
    “Not surprised. We’re more likely to get something from forensics. I was just hoping for a miracle.” MOCIC was a law enforcement database for the exchange of information in a more localized area and the first go-to place when seeking info on a subject. If anyone in the Midwest were looking for the victim, it would have been listed there. “We’ll check the site for updates in the morning.”
    “It is morning, Slick.” Terri watched him as he lifted his wristwatch and squinted to make out the time. He scowled and stared out the windshield. His eyebrows pinched together, thinking about how he’d gotten here—from Milwaukee to Nowhere, USA.
    At least he’d been able to recognize the signs of burnout at his old job before it had taken root. He’d done his homework. For months, he’d watched statewide job postings, searching for a small community where murder simply didn’t happen. And he’d found it.
    Mt. Ouisco, Wisconsin. It was a homicide-free town, where a cop could work until he died of old age or boredom. There hadn’t been a murder in Mt. Ouisco in twenty years—a farm wife had caught her husband having sex with a heifer and whacked him over the head with a barn scraper, nearly decapitating him. Gave a full confession. Open and shut case, and not a single murder since then. That was what Jon had banked on when he’d transferred a month ago.
    Karma’s a bitch, and it follows your mailing address.
    A full two minutes had passed before Terri spoke up. “You know you’re going to have to share something with me eventually. I’m not going to learn this shit through osmosis.”
    He let her stew a minute longer. “It’s just not what I pictured, you know. I moved here to get away from the violence.”
    “Yup, sucks to be you. But it doesn’t mean you need to be a killjoy for the rest of us. I hate that somebody died, but God help me—I’m glad there’s finally a case that will work my brain.”
    Jon shot her a look. “Hmm…thanks for the sympathy.”
    “Well, you could look at it this way…once this case is solved there shouldn’t be a murder for another twenty years.”
    “Hmmm.”
    She chuckled. “Glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
    “Only where the Lassiter woman is concerned.” Jon placed all the interview sheets onto what was fast becoming a healthy stack inside the box. “How’d her interview go with Erland?”
    Annoyed with the woman and unable to avoid staring at her cleavage, Jon had handed off the official interview to another detective as he and Terri took care of Travis “The Thong” Pauley.
    “Nothing there. Jesus, talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Erland said her story is pretty wild, but she’s cooperating.”
    Jon snorted at the last word. “So what’s her background?”
    “Like me, a local gal. We went to the same school, but she was a couple of grades behind me. Married young…” She shrugged. “Didn’t last. No surprise to anyone but her, the guy was an asshole.” She looked over at him. “You know the type. The only snatch he wanted was the one he hadn’t had yet.”
    Jon grimaced, disgusted with guys like that who gave the male species a bad rap. Then he remembered his comment about her defending her PI career as having come from personal experience. He was only trying to goad her, a little payback for his tainted crime scene. Now it seemed like he’d poured salt into an old wound.
    Great, now he could add his name to that shit list.
    “She seems nice enough.” Terri continued. “Good realtor. Carrie Ann bought the house from her a few years ago.