A Scarlet Death by Elaine Viets EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Elaine Viets
- Language: English
- Genre: Small Town & Rural Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Selwyn Skipton’s murder scene was one of the strangest, and I’ve seen a
lot of them in my job.
The seventy-year-old CEO was buck-naked on a bed with black satin
sheets. A silk tie, in a muted shade of blue, was knotted around his neck.
There was nothing muted about the large, red letter ‘A’ stapled to his grayhaired chest.
Yep, stapled.
I thought Skipton would be the last man to die on black satin sheets. He
was a devoted husband who made big donations to charities –
unfashionable causes that helped the illiterate read, the hungry eat, and the
homeless find shelter. In short, a good man.
Selwyn was strangled in an apartment above the Chouteau Forest
Chocolate Shoppe. My town is so rich, we don’t have shops. We have
prissy shoppes.
I’m Angela Richman, a death investigator for Chouteau County, a fat cat
community forty miles west of St. Louis, Missouri. Chouteau Forest is the
largest town in the county.
Selwyn’s murder was discovered by Maya Richards, the chocolate shop
owner. When she opened the store that morning, Maya smelled something
that definitely wasn’t chocolate. She followed her nose up the back stairs to
the apartment, where the door was unlocked, and poked her head in. One
look at the strangled Selwyn, and she sprinted downstairs. When Maya
recovered her breath, she wailed like an air raid siren, then called 911.
That’s how Detective Jace Budewitz and I wound up at the scene at
eleven o’clock on a freezing December morning, an hour after the place
usually opened. The chocolate shop was chaos. The front doors were
locked, with the three responding uniformed officers inside. Mike Harrigan,
an old pro, was guarding the back door. Scott Grafton was drooling over a
rack of chocolate Christmas candy, and Pete Clayton, the new hire, was at
the front door. Crazed chocolate lovers stormed the place, oblivious to the
falling snow. Jace shooed them away, and had Pete string up yellow crime
scene tape.
Maya Richards unlocked the door with shaking fingers, and let us in. I
was familiar with the interior, thanks to my craving for sea-salt truffles. The
decor hadn’t changed since 1890. Curlicued dark wood framed mirrors
behind mahogany counters. The chocolates were displayed like jewels in
beveled glass cases. The cases were empty today. Maya knew her shop
wasn’t going to open for a while.
Maya was about forty, wearing a chocolate-brown suit, the same color as
her hair. Her face was pale as paper and her red lipstick looked like a
bloody slash. Maya was shaking so badly, I was afraid she’d collapse. She
was clearly in shock, and could barely talk.
Jace was worried about her. He made sure Maya sat in a chair and called
911. I went back to find her a cup of coffee. I couldn’t find any, but there
was plenty of the shop’s double-dark hot chocolate. I heated a mug in the
microwave, and brought it to her. Maya wrapped her hands around the mug,
and nodded. After a few sips, she recovered enough to talk. There were
long pauses between her words, but she forced them out. Then the words
tumbled out in a rush.
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