Read Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas) for Free Online Page A

couldn’t afford to buy a box of nails.
    “And while you’re at it,” said Rafe, “you might as well thank him, too, since he is doing this as a favor to a former friend.”
    When had she turned into such a bitch? “I’m sorry, Jamey. I don’t know what’s wrong with me sometimes.”
    Jamey shrugged. “It’s okay.” But she’d let him down. He bent over his toolbox again.
    “I really am sorry. Honest. Look, I’d be grateful if you’d come on in after you look at the roof. I was just about to fix up a pitcher of sweet tea.”
    “Mayb-b-be.”
    Hollyn, who was half-hiding behind an overgrown catclaw bush caught Rafe’s attention. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he called out. “Come on over.”
    The blood drained from Hollyn’s face. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she baby-stepped slowly and reluctantly toward Rafe. Poor thing. She probably thought he was going to arrest her for stealing groceries.
    Dinah rode to the rescue. “She’s my housekeeper.”
    Hollyn’s eyes flashed with relief.
    Rafe’s mouth curled up. “Really.” She liked the way he looked when he smiled.
    “Is that against the law, too, Officer?” The corner of her mouth quirked up. She’d bet a jar of peanut butter he had a good sense of humor.
    His smile deepened, revealing his dimples, and his dark eyes warmed as they met hers. “Not yet, Miss Dinah.” Then he turned away from her and studied Hollyn. “Weren’t you at the crime scene this morning?”
    “Crime scene?” asked Jamey.
    “Crime scene?” Dinah echoed his shock. Despite the hot day, she shivered.
    “An old drunk guy fell over this little bridge in the park,” said Hollyn.
    “What were you doing there?” Rafe asked her.
    “I saw a crowd, so I went over to see what happened. It was horrible.” Hollyn pressed a hand to her chest. “I almost fainted from the terrible smell.”
    Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “You ever seen that man before?”
    Hollyn shook her head. “No, sir. I just got into town this morning.” She studied her torn sneaker and the toe poking out. “Heard one guy say he fell off the bridge ‘cause he was drunk. Is it true?”
    “It’s still under investigation.” Rafe fished a small notebook out of his shirt pocket. “In the meantime, we’re interviewing everyone who might have seen something suspicious. Can I get your full name and date of birth?”
    “What for?” Hollyn’s eyes widened with alarmed. Not surprising. Today’s grocery caper was probably not her first. “I told you. I just got here this morning.”
    “Just routine.”
    Hollyn pressed a hand against her forehead and swayed. “I’m feeling a little faint. I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
    Dinah scrambled over to her. “How stupid of me. Let’s get you inside. It’s cool in the living room. You can lie down while I fix you a sandwich.”
    “Dinah.” It was Rafe..
    “Don’t you want to know who died?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “You tell me. It was Teke Cruz.”
    Jamey’s eyes widened in shock. Dinah staggered backward. The world began to spin around her.
    Hollyn’s arm slid around her waist. “Are you okay, Miss Dinah?”
    Dinah shook her head. “No.”
    Teke was dead? He’d been as nervous as a cat in heat last night, looking over his shoulder, jumping at every sound. She’d told him he was crazy. If only she’d taken him more seriously, asked a few more questions. But she didn’t have the stolen money. Of course, he hadn’t had the money either. At least not when he left her house. So why would anyone want to kill him? Dumb question. At least one person in El Royo had a motive, maybe the best motive ever: Dinah herself, and it was a doozy—revenge.
    …
    “Teke Cruz, huh?” Jamey whistled softly. “You think it has something to do with Dinah?”
    “Maybe.” Rafe studied the Pittman bungalow. White paint peeled off the sides in long sheets and the dark blue shutters, which had crescent moons carved into the panels, hung askew.