much. I thought Mr. Kramer would be gone a little longer.”
Kramer slammed his last two items down on the counter next to several other items awaiting his return. “If you women flapped your gums less and tended to the business at hand, you’d have been finished by now.”
Neil used his best ‘public servant’ smile. “It’s only natural for people to stop and talk considering what’s happened. You can spare the ladies an extra minute or two, can’t you?”
Kramer sneered. “That Davis woman’s dead. This store won’t see another red cent from her. If they want my business, they’d better see they take care of me.”
“I’m sure they will, Mr. Kramer.” Neil noticed the checker picking up the pace. “You’ll be out of here in no time, isn’t that right, Sarah?”
The clerk finished bagging the woman’s purchases. “As soon as possible, believe me.”
At the station, the door to Woody’s office stood open. Ray stepped inside hoping there’d been some progress. “Any word on those phone records yet?”
Woody rocked back in his chair. “Relax. Neil hasn’t gotten back yet. I don’t know any more than you do.”
Woody’s phone rang. “Chief Newell. Yes, go ahead.” Ray started toward the door. Covering the mouthpiece, Woody stopped him with a quick “Wait a minute.” He began jotting down notes on a legal pad. “All right. Yeah, okay.” Silence followed as he listened and scrawled more information on the page. “Right,” he said at last. “Okay, got it. What? No, not yet. Right. Thanks. Yeah, you too.”
“The crime lab?” Ray said, hazarding a guess.
“Yeah. They finished analyzing the boot impressions and footprints from the crime scene. Based on the depth of the impressions and the length of the stride, the man we’re looking for is roughly 6’1” and probably weighs in at about 200 to 210 pounds.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down much.”
“You didn’t let me finish. They found something interesting in the guy’s gait. He walks with a limp. Bad right leg.”
“That ought to help. What about the muddy prints in the upstairs bedroom?”
“That news isn’t so good. The sculpted pattern of the carpet made it impossible for them to make a definite determination on whether they’re a match to the prints found outside.”
While Woody and Ray discussed the information, Neil entered the station and set the container of seafood salad in front of Irene. “Fresh and still chilled.”
“Better be.” She looked at him over the top of her glasses and grinned. “You look mighty pleased about something. You been playing with yourself?”
Neil’s smile widened. “Someone ought to revoke your license to be a grandma.”
“Let ‘em try.” She dug a plastic utensil and paper napkin out of her top drawer. “You could’ve been quicker. It’s one o’clock already—I’m starving.” Irene dug in. “So, what’s up with that silly grin?”
“I think I’ve got the perfect man for you, Irene.”
“There’s no such thing, honey.” She loaded a mouthful of food on the fork. “But out of curiosity, who’d you have in mind?”
“Hank Kramer.”
Her eyes rolled behind her bifocals. “Forget it. I like my men seasoned, not senile.”
The sound of Neil’s laughter drifted into Woody’s office.
“He’s back. Good,” Woody said. He shouted, “Neil, get him in here.”
Neil hurried into the office. “What’s up?”
Woody asked. “Did you get the subpoena for those phone records?”
“It’s in the works.”
“You were supposed to come back with it.” Ray told him.
“Bad timing. Judge Froelich was called away before I got there. His office is going to get back to us.”
“Damn it.”
Woody ripped the sheet of notes from his tablet and handed it to Neil. “Give this to Irene. Have her type it up. I want a copy in every officer’s hands ASAP.”
Neil skimmed the information on the paper. “Hey, you heard from the crime lab?”
“Just
Kramer slammed his last two items down on the counter next to several other items awaiting his return. “If you women flapped your gums less and tended to the business at hand, you’d have been finished by now.”
Neil used his best ‘public servant’ smile. “It’s only natural for people to stop and talk considering what’s happened. You can spare the ladies an extra minute or two, can’t you?”
Kramer sneered. “That Davis woman’s dead. This store won’t see another red cent from her. If they want my business, they’d better see they take care of me.”
“I’m sure they will, Mr. Kramer.” Neil noticed the checker picking up the pace. “You’ll be out of here in no time, isn’t that right, Sarah?”
The clerk finished bagging the woman’s purchases. “As soon as possible, believe me.”
At the station, the door to Woody’s office stood open. Ray stepped inside hoping there’d been some progress. “Any word on those phone records yet?”
Woody rocked back in his chair. “Relax. Neil hasn’t gotten back yet. I don’t know any more than you do.”
Woody’s phone rang. “Chief Newell. Yes, go ahead.” Ray started toward the door. Covering the mouthpiece, Woody stopped him with a quick “Wait a minute.” He began jotting down notes on a legal pad. “All right. Yeah, okay.” Silence followed as he listened and scrawled more information on the page. “Right,” he said at last. “Okay, got it. What? No, not yet. Right. Thanks. Yeah, you too.”
“The crime lab?” Ray said, hazarding a guess.
“Yeah. They finished analyzing the boot impressions and footprints from the crime scene. Based on the depth of the impressions and the length of the stride, the man we’re looking for is roughly 6’1” and probably weighs in at about 200 to 210 pounds.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down much.”
“You didn’t let me finish. They found something interesting in the guy’s gait. He walks with a limp. Bad right leg.”
“That ought to help. What about the muddy prints in the upstairs bedroom?”
“That news isn’t so good. The sculpted pattern of the carpet made it impossible for them to make a definite determination on whether they’re a match to the prints found outside.”
While Woody and Ray discussed the information, Neil entered the station and set the container of seafood salad in front of Irene. “Fresh and still chilled.”
“Better be.” She looked at him over the top of her glasses and grinned. “You look mighty pleased about something. You been playing with yourself?”
Neil’s smile widened. “Someone ought to revoke your license to be a grandma.”
“Let ‘em try.” She dug a plastic utensil and paper napkin out of her top drawer. “You could’ve been quicker. It’s one o’clock already—I’m starving.” Irene dug in. “So, what’s up with that silly grin?”
“I think I’ve got the perfect man for you, Irene.”
“There’s no such thing, honey.” She loaded a mouthful of food on the fork. “But out of curiosity, who’d you have in mind?”
“Hank Kramer.”
Her eyes rolled behind her bifocals. “Forget it. I like my men seasoned, not senile.”
The sound of Neil’s laughter drifted into Woody’s office.
“He’s back. Good,” Woody said. He shouted, “Neil, get him in here.”
Neil hurried into the office. “What’s up?”
Woody asked. “Did you get the subpoena for those phone records?”
“It’s in the works.”
“You were supposed to come back with it.” Ray told him.
“Bad timing. Judge Froelich was called away before I got there. His office is going to get back to us.”
“Damn it.”
Woody ripped the sheet of notes from his tablet and handed it to Neil. “Give this to Irene. Have her type it up. I want a copy in every officer’s hands ASAP.”
Neil skimmed the information on the paper. “Hey, you heard from the crime lab?”
“Just
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