The Scum of All Fears: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 5 Read Free Page A

or the egg?” variety.
    I gave up on trying to make a salad in order to fully concentrate on this conversation. “Something doesn’t feel right. Someone left that message in blood—or some other bodily fluid—then cleaned it up some, but not enough that it wouldn’t show up under the right chemicals.” If only I had access to a lab. I could have taken a sample and tested it to find out if it had been blood. Or some other fluid. But I was not officially a part of this case.
    I was certain the criminal had left that message after the crime scene techs had come. That meant the bad guy had come back and risked getting caught just to leave that message. Why would someone take that chance?
    Riley crossed his arms. The top two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone and his sleeves rolled up. He’d offered to cook dinner tonight at his apartment, and I was never one to turn down free dinner. In reality, I should be at another scene cleaning. But a girl had to eat. No one could fault me for that.
    Riley looked all serious and lawyer-like as he stood there discussing the scene with me. He’d finally shaved off his scruffy beard that he’d let grow out while he was on a once-every-decade vacation last week. His dark hair remained just a touch too long, but I liked that. It let people know that he wasn’t all about the rules; he was just mostly about the rules.
    Our wedding was coming up in four months, two days, and 56 minutes.
    Not that I was counting.
    He stepped closer, his blue eyes sparkling. “The message was for the police, not you.”
    “But it said, ‘I’m coming for you,’ and it was left after the fact. Isn’t that strange?”
    “ I wouldn’t worry about it. What I would worry about is that poor innocent girl who had to see it. She’s probably traumatized.”
    I put my hand on his chest and nudged him playfully. “Poor innocent girl? She was driving me nuts! You have no idea.”
    Riley shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. “You were trying to freak her out.”
    He knew me too well. Yet he still wanted to marry me. I still pinched myself sometimes.
    I cocked a shoulder, trying to look innocent. “Okay, maybe I was trying to freak Clarice out. Just a little. Not that bad, though.”
    “Uh huh.” Riley didn’t sound convinced.
    “You don’t understand my dilemma. There’s no way I could handle Clarice working for me every day until Chad gets back. I would go crazy. But if I fired her, Sharon would never speak to me again. In the very least, she wouldn’t give me free coffee anymore. And you know how much I love my lattes.”
    Halfway through my diatribe, I realized Riley wasn’t listening. His gaze was fastened on the TV blaring from the living room behind me.
    I turned around to see what could possibly be distracting him from my engaging story and latte confessions. I squinted as I saw the news banner stretched beneath a serious looking brunette news anchor. “Scum River Killer Escapes From Prison, Kills Two.”
    I glanced back up at my fiancé. “Riley?”
    He still didn’t hear me. H e moved toward the TV, almost like he was in a trance.
    I moved b ehind him, curious to listen in and maybe get a clue as to why Riley was so fascinated with this story. I’d heard about the Scum River Killer. He’d been all over the news when he was first captured. But Riley seemed a little too interested.
    Even Lucky, Riley’s parrot, seemed to catch on to Riley’s total and complete focus on the TV. He squawked across the room.
    Riley turned up the TV volume, and a newscaster’s voice blared into the room. “Milton Jones killed thirteen women before his murderous rampage ended nearly three years ago. He was put away for life without possibility for parole. While being transferred from the high security prison where he’d been for two years to a supermax prison, he obtained a gun from one of the guards and escaped.”
    “I can’t believe it . . .” Riley muttered. He plopped on the couch