Blood Will Tell Read Free Page B

came here. I guess I like Kentucky because I'm still a farm boy at heart."
    “You had a farm in Iowa?"
    “Till my dad died. Mom couldn't scrape together enough money to run the farm and pay taxes at the same time, so she sold the farm and we moved in with her uncle in Nebraska. One of those big old houses in the middle of wheat fields, not another building as far as you can see."
    “We drove across route 80 out to California one summer,” said Brandy. “I remember thinking Nebraska was the emptiest place I'd ever seen. That was before we saw the Mojave Desert!"
    “Yeah. I like it a little more populated, like here, or Indiana, or Iowa or Ohio."
    “Ohio? I grew up in Ohio in the middle of a big city!” said Brandy.
    “I meant the farmlands in the southern part of the state. I guess I'll never be completely happy as a city boy. I'm up for tenure this year. If I get it, I'm going to buy a place in the county. Not a farm; there's no future in small farms today, and I really love teaching. But I want some land, some woods, maybe a pond. A place where I can have a garden. And a nice, big, comfortable old house."
    Brandy smiled. “I know what you mean. When Dad moved us from Cleveland to Murphy, it seemed like the back of beyond. I thought everyone was a redneck, the kids a bunch of yokels. But I've lived here more than half my life now, and y'know, Murphy's about the best compromise you're gonna find. Big enough to be civilized, small enough to be friendly. There are drugs, but not gangs, and we're not big enough for major dealers. We've got bootleggers, but nobody cares except during election campaigns. If it weren't for the chop shops, the family fights, and the drunk drivers, there wouldn't be much for police to do."
    “Except investigate mysterious corpses,” he said.
    “I'm glad I took that call,” said Brandy. “This case could take genuine detective work. I went into police work to solve crimes. Except for the ongoing drug operations, not a lot of real detective work is required on my job."
    “No unsolved murders?” Martin asked.
    “You read the papers. It's always the husband, the wife, the boyfriend, the girlfriend. No work to solve it. Hey!” she realized, “you've turned the conversation back to me again! I want to know more about you. You said your father died when you were twelve. Your mother?"
    “Died in a car wreck when I was in college."
    “Brothers and sisters?"
    “One brother who died in the Gulf War."
    Brandy did a quick calculation. “He must have been much older than you."
    “No—he went in the army at nineteen."
    “Rough. You're pretty much alone, then, except for that uncle."
    “He was Mom's uncle, and he's dead now, too. I guess I've still got some cousins, but I never stayed close to them. What about you?"
    “My little brother died when I was ten. Hit by a car. I don't think my mother has forgiven me to this day."
    “Forgiven you?"
    “I wasn't watching him. I wasn't told to watch him that day—it was right after school, no different from any other day. Les was playing ball. I was skipping rope with some other girls. I didn't know what had happened until I heard the boys screaming."
    “It wasn't your fault,” Martin said.
    “I know. I knew then, although Mom almost convinced me I was wrong. But Dad stuck by me, and eventually we got over it."
    She blinked. “You did it again! What have I known you for—two hours? And you've got my whole life story! I didn't tell my best friend about Les till we'd known each other for months."
    “I'm just a good listener,” he said. That was when Brandy noticed that he didn't smile the way other men did when they uttered such pleasantries. Had she seen him smile at all? She wasn't sure.
    “Well, good listener, I'm afraid it's time to go home,” said Brandy as a new rush of customers entered the restaurant. She was amazed to see that it was 11:23. The 9:00pm movie must have just let out.
    Ten minutes later Brandy found herself pulling up