Dying for a Dude (Laurel McKay Mysteries Book 4) by Cindy Sample Page A

tragedy enough but for him to be killed in such a horrific manner would be even more devastating.
    I’d expected Hank to be in the crowd, but I had yet to see him around. He might still be talking to the police or he could have gone home. Main Street had been cordoned off to vehicular traffic, but that hadn’t stopped people from parking a few blocks away and scurrying along the sidewalk to check out the crime scene behind the tape.
    Jake Russell, the owner of Hangtown Bakery, true to character, chose to profit from the crime by setting up his portable kiosk next to the barricade perimeter. The curious spectators could sip a cup of java and nosh on a jelly-filled doughnut while watching the Hangtown version of Law and Order . While I applauded Jake’s ingenuity, profiting from a murder lacked good taste.
    Although Jake’s incredible pastries lacked for nothing.
    A car bearing the insignia of the El Dorado County Sheriff’s Office stopped in front of the barricade. The driver rolled down his window and spoke to the city cop who then let the vehicle through. I recalled that the Placerville Police Department normally utilized detectives from the county for homicide investigations. The driver pulled behind a fire engine parked in the loading zone in front of Antiques Galore. The passenger door opened, and a dark-haired man unfurled his large frame out of the car.
    I grinned. My homicide hotline had arrived on the scene. Once the detective entered the building, he would be off limits.
    I called out his name. Tom halted, his internal “Laurel” GPS zeroing in on my location. He must have told the deputy accompanying him to go ahead because the younger man walked inside while Tom headed toward me.
    “Excuse me,” Tom said. The crowd parted as if he’d majestically commanded the Red Sea to divide in half. He grabbed my hand, and we weaved in and out of the spectators until we reached the corner of Main and Sacramento Streets.
    “What are you doing here?” Tom asked. “Shouldn’t you be at the bank?”
    I glanced at my watch. “I still have ten minutes to spare. Hank called early this morning to tell me about finding Spencer, so I thought I’d see him here.”
    Tom’s chiseled features hardened causing him to resemble a Bernini sculpture. “What do you mean Hank called you about Spencer? You’re not saying he had anything to do with the murder, are you?”
    “You’re calling it a murder already? Normally you officials say a death is under investigation until you’re positive it’s a homicide.”
    “Someone hung the guy from the scaffolding. He doesn’t appear to have done it on his own, so it’s not an accident nor a suicide.”
    I frowned at Tom. “Do you know if the city police talked to Hank?”
    He shook his head, looking even more confused than I felt. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What’s the deal with your ex?”
    “Hank and Spencer scheduled a meeting for five, but Hank overslept and didn’t enter the building until close to six. He claims he didn’t notice anything unusual until he called Spencer’s cell. When he heard the phone ringing, he went up to the second floor and discovered the body hanging from the scaffolding. Then he called me. And I told him to talk to the police.”
    “Hank called you?” Tom asked. “Not 911?”
    I shrugged. “I didn’t say Hank was smart. But he’s not a killer.”
    Tom’s eyes softened. “I realize the man’s an idiot. He let you go, didn’t he?”
    Aw. After that compliment, I could have thrown my arms around him, but two men dressed in suits crossed the intersection and stopped to speak to us.
    Tom nodded at the men. “Mayor Briggs, Supervisor Winkler. What can I do for you?”
    “What’s the situation here, Lieutenant?” asked the mayor, his face flushed and his navy and yellow print tie somewhat askew. Then his gaze shifted to me. “Are you assisting Detective Hunter?”
    I could think of a dozen ways I’d like to assist my