Page 16 of The Burnt (The Declan Hunt Mysteries #3)

When Declan got back from saying goodbye to Charlie, Mrs B was holding up a message. “It’s from Katherine O’Grady. All she said was that she needed you to come to her place right now. Here’s her number in case you don’t have it.”

Declan phoned Katherine, but she didn’t pick up.

He made his way down to his van and cleared the fresh snow off the windows and headlights then drove straight over.

As he walked up to her house he noted that the driveway and the path to the front door had been recently shovelled.

She must have been clearing the walks when he’d called back.

Declan knocked on the door. He heard nothing.

A minute later, the living room drapes shifted.

He knocked again. This time the lace curtain on the window in the front door moved a bit.

Declan briefly caught an eye peering out.

There was the sound of a deadbolt being drawn back and the door opened as much as it could with the chain guard still in place.

“Are you alone?” she asked.

“Yes. What happened, Katherine?”

“Just a sec.” She closed the door, disengaged the chain then opened the door wide.

“Take off your boots and come in quickly,” she said, heading off to the kitchen. He followed her.

As they sat at the table she set out two glasses. “ Crème de menthe ?”

“Sure, but just a small one.”

“I got your message,” he said as she poured. “I was a bit worried when you didn’t pick up the phone when I called back.”

“To be truthful, I was a bit embarrassed after I left the message. Thought maybe I’d overreacted. But you’re here now.”

“Overreacted to what, Katherine?”

“There was a man watchin’ Archie’s house. He kept his distance at first, then I think he noticed me lookin’ at him through the window.”

“Had you seen him before?”

She nodded her head. “I’m sure it was the same guy that I saw on the street the day Archie was killed.”

“Did you call the police?” Declan asked.

Katherine looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. “I called you. I don’t trust the police.” She took a swig of her drink.

“All right. Can you describe him?”

“Like I said the other day, about your height. He’s an older man and a nice dresser. He had a long light-brown coat.”

“There’s nothing new in that,” Declan said.

Katherine scowled. “Well, he was wrapped up in a brown scarf and dark glasses, if that helps. I just thought you’d wanna know that he’d been around again.

And there’s something else. Look, it might be nothing, but on the day that Archie was murdered, there was a car parked up the street I’d never seen before.

It was an older car. Grey. I know everyone on the street, and it’s not one of theirs. ”

“Did you see it today?” Declan asked.

“Nope. But that doesn’t mean it might not belong to the man in the brown coat. Maybe this time he parked it a couple of blocks away so it wouldn’t be noticed. Crooks do that, you know.”

“Katherine, you’re a one-woman neighbourhood watch.”

“I should have thought of it before. I figured you might like to see a picture.”

Declan’s eyes widened. “You took a picture of the car?”

Katherine nodded. “Pure dumb luck. On the day Archie died, that car was parked under a burnt-out street light that I’ve been complainin’ to the city about for weeks.

I took the picture of the pole so I could report it for a repair.

Then, after this morning’s encounter I got to thinkin’ about that car and the photo, and… Let me show you.”

She opened up her phone and scrolled through a few pictures. “Ah, here it is.”

Katherine turned the phone toward Declan and zoomed in on the car. It was an early 2000 model Chevy Impala. What was most significant was the licence plate—clearly visible.

“And that was parked there on the day of the murder?” he clarified.

She nodded.

“You didn’t happen to get a picture of the man in the brown coat, did you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a smartass. But now that you say it, I wish I’d thought of it.”

“Can you send me a copy of this picture?”

She passed him the phone. “You do it.”

Declan found his number in her recent contacts and sent himself a text with the photo attached, then handed the phone back to her.

“It might be nothin’,” Katherine said.

“Or it might be something important,” Declan said. “I promise I’ll check up on it for you. And if the man in the brown coat comes back…call the police. If he did have something to do with Archie’s murder, they need to know about it.”

Declan took a small sip of his drink. “I have to go, Katherine, but I’ll let you know if I find out anything more.”

Declan put on his shoes and headed back to his van.

He should call the police with this, but it might be nothing and he wanted to check it out on his own first. Declan had connections that could run a plate and track down an address.

And if it did turn out to be something important, he’d give Sawchuck a call.

If nothing else, it gave him something to focus on until he heard back from Charlie.

Declan drove back to the office and walked slowly up the stairs. Mrs B was seated at her desk like she’d never been away. She looked up, “Charlie phoned and said he won’t be in for a bit.”

“Did he say how his grandmother is doing?”

“She’s stable, but he sounded very concerned. You might want to reach out to him.”

“I will,” Declan replied. “By the way, did you send Simon Griffin’s contract?”

“Yes, and he signed it back. A paper copy’s in the folder in Charlie’s filing cabinet.”

“Good. Please email Mr Griffin and tell him that Charlie will be in contact with him in the near future once he’s completed some preliminary work.”

Mrs B gave Declan a hard stare.

“Don’t give me that look. If Charlie’s not back in a few days, I’ll start digging into the case. But Charlie’ll be back soon… I know it.”

“You’re the boss,” she replied.

Declan went into his office and closed the door. He pulled out his phone and texted Charlie.

Take as much time off as you need.

He hit ‘send’, then realised he probably shouldn’t have mentioned work at all.

He texted again.

If there’s anything you need, just ask. Wish I could be there with you.

He hit ‘send’ then reread his text and groaned.

The wording of the second part of the text might make Charlie feel guilty about asking him not to come with him in the first place.

Charlie would have known exactly what to say at a moment like this.

Declan thought about sending a third text, but knew he’d just dig himself a deeper hole.

He tossed his phone on the desk, then went to the credenza and poured himself a scotch.

Keep it together, Hunt. No matter how much you love him, you’ve still got a business to run.