Honor Code Read Free

unless you want a full-out necropsy. But this blow to the head definitely killed her.”
    “Poor old girl.” Robbins ran his hand down her flank. “Thanks, doc.”
    “Has anyone made arrangements?”
    “For…”
    Arrangements.
    Robbins’ jaw tightened. The word hit him with the same blunt force as the baseball bat blow Lewis had mentioned. Arrangements for the dog’s body. Funerals for goldfish, gerbils, assorted dogs and cats paraded past, along with tears large and small. To make matters worse, this dog was evidence. Evidence of what he wasn’t sure. But if some scumbag who could kill a blind old dog had Beason and his car, Robbins hoped they found the old man soon.
    In one piece.
    Robbins pushed the thought aside and considered the vet’s set up. The police occasionally boarded an animal they need to hang onto, but Lewis didn’t have the facilities to store the dog’s body.
    Wonder how the guys at the morgue feel about dogs?
    He opened the door to return to the waiting area. DaNeal stood beside the Cat Woman, reaching for the carrier. He made his routine assessment of the woman. Caucasian, mid-fifties. Stick thin, hair from-a-bottle red.
    Cat Woman turned as he stepped forward. “What is the status of Mr. Beason’s case?” she asked.
    He was used to nosy people. “He’s missing. Do you have information that could help us locate him?”
    “He’s of no interest to me. It sounds as if his past finally caught up to him.” With that pronouncement she swept into the vet’s inner room.
    Robbins took an automatic step, then stopped and turned to DaNeal, who watched, wide-eyed. “What’s her name?”
    “That’s Dr. McKinley.”
    “Is she a vet?”
    DaNeal’s dark hair bounced around her face as she shook her head. “She doctors people, but I don’t think I’d want her doctoring me. Mr. Beason’s a nice man.”
    “I don’t think I’d want her doctoring me either.” Robbins watched the door swing closed. Questioning her was probably pointless. She seemed the kind who’d throw confidentiality over everything. Still…
    “Do you have contact information for her?”
     

Chapter 3
     
    Robbins dropped the receiver back into the cradle and checked off another relative who hadn’t heard from their father, grandfather, or great-grandfather. He hoped the evening news report generated more tips about the old man’s—or his car’s—location. He turned pages in the leather-bound address book, searching for another name from his contact list. At last he found the youngest daughter—currently living in Camden according to the long list of crossed out address and phone numbers. He tapped in the digits and once again explained why a Newberry, SC detective was calling.
    “No, we don’t have any evidence of a crime”—other than the dead dog—“but a neighbor asked us to check on him and we found he was not at his residence. At his age, he’s considered a vulnerable adult. We issued a missing person alert.”
    “My father hasn’t been vulnerable for a day in his life.”
    The guy was pushing eighty. That equaled vulnerable in Robbins’ book.
    “That busybody next door reported it, didn’t she?”
    The icy tone of her voice grated across Robbins’ ear. “If you hear from your father, please let us know. The missing person file will stay open until he’s located.”
    “Really officer, I appreciate the non-discriminatory effort to find him, but this is a complete waste of time. I’m sure he’s off enjoying himself somewhere. Why weren’t you this eager to investigate when my mother died?”
    Silence.
    He let it grow for a bit. What was she asking? “Your mother?” Robbins prompted.
    “He killed her. None of you people would do a thing about it.”
    Robbins scrubbed a hand over his face. What the hell? “Your father killed your mother?”
    “Yes.” Her tone added, Finally. Someone gets it.
    “You reported this.”
    “Of course. She was ill, but she could’ve lived a long time if he