Orchid Beach (Holly Barker 1)

“Holly Barker,” she replied, extending a hand. “Pardon my gloves.”

“Heard about you, glad to meet you.”

“Same here.”

“What we got?”

“Hank Doherty, apparently. Dead, shotgun to the face.”

Hurst nodded, walked around the desk and took a good look. “Looks like a police weapon,” he said.

“It’s Chief Marley’s,” she replied. “I checked the serial number.”

He looked at her oddly. “That’s kind of weird.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve had a walk-through. It’s all in good order; nothing seems to have been stolen. The safe’s open, and it doesn’t seem like a robbery.”

“From what I know of Hank, it could be suicide,” Hurst said.

“With the chief’s shotgun?”

“Well, there is that.”

“Let’s treat it as a homicide until we know more. You work the scene, I’ll go through the desk and the safe.”

“Right.”

Holly went and sat behind the desk. She gave her first attention to the letter from Mrs. Eleanor Warner. It was two pages of affectionate chat, with talk of her children. Mrs. Warner was Hank’s daughter.

Holly went through the bills and other mail and found nothing remarkable. Finally, she came to a bound document under a blank legal pad. The cover, apparently printed from a computer, was set in large type. It read:

DAISY

EXCELLENT WORKING BITCH

“Oh, Daisy,” Holly said aloud. “Me, too.”

CHAPTER

7

H olly went through Hank Doherty’s safe and found three hundred dollars and change in cash, a life insurance policy and some other personal and business documents. “I think we can discount robbery as a motive,” she said to Bob Hurst, who was dusting the counter and the phone for fingerprints. “There’s cash here, and nobody bothered to look.”

“Right,” Hurst said. “I don’t hold out much hope for any relevant prints. The shotgun’s been wiped clean, which means it wasn’t suicide.”

A man carrying a medical bag entered through the front door.

“Hey, Doc,” Hurst said. “Got a job for you over there.”

“Is it Hank?” the doctor asked.

“Sure is. That there is Deputy Chief Barker,” he said, pointing a gloved hand. “Chief, this here is Dr. Fred Harper, who passes for our M.E. around here.”

Holly waved from Hank’s desk. “Hey, Dr. Harper.”

“How you do?” The doctor walked around the counter and into the office. “Jesus God,” he said quietly.