The Priority Unit (Maine Justice Book 1)
Page 35
He checked the time. It was too early to call Jennifer. How would she would like him getting handed such a high-profile case a month before their wedding? Of course, she had no idea yet what that would entail. She would get the Cop’s Wife Crash Course.
Eddie came back. “Nothing new.”
“Okay.” Harvey looked up and down the river. The body had lodged in a grassy little cove on the west side of the Fore. Between the cove and the bridge were the house with the deck and a little park that touched the shore.
“That bridge is the most likely point of entry,” Harvey said.
They walked along the riverbank toward the bridge. On its downstream side, water and sewer pipes hung three feet below the guard rail, and riprap tumbled into the water on both sides of the channel. They waited for a lull in traffic on Congress Street and crossed to the other side, where a brick sidewalk melded into concrete over the bridge. That side had a higher railing. Harvey pulled out a tape measure. Forty inches. He walked along the sidewalk, looking closely at the railing. He stopped about two thirds of the way across.
“Eddie, this could be dried blood.”
Eddie hurried to him and looked at the brown smear on the painted steel railing. “Yeah, it could.”
“Flag it for the techs.” Harvey took some pictures of it and the bridge on his phone.
There wasn’t much more they could do at the scene, so when the mobile unit arrived at six-thirty, he instructed them to take a good look at the bridge and the park. The two detectives headed for Martin Blake’s house, to see if his widow was home.
The huge old mansion was surrounded by a high, wrought iron fence, and the gate was locked. Harvey spotted a switch on one side. He got out of Eddie’s truck and pushed the switch. Nothing happened that he could see, but he waited. Thirty seconds later, a young woman came out of the house in a bathrobe and flip-flops and walked down the driveway toward them.
“May I help you?” Her blue eyes had the fuzzy look of a contact-wearer who didn’t have her lenses in.
“I’m Detective Larson, Portland P.D.” Harvey held up his badge. “We’re here to see Mrs. Blake.”
“Mrs. Blake is asleep. She won’t be available until 10 a.m.”
“Well, I’m sorry. She needs to be available now. This is urgent.”
She hesitated. “What is it about?”
“Are you a relative?”
“No, I’m Mr. Blake’s assistant.”
“I’ll need to talk to Mrs. Blake.”
She frowned. “I’ll take her a message.” Harvey got back in the truck.
They sat there a good ten minutes, and Eddie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Finally the woman came back down the driveway, wearing slacks and a loose top this time. She opened the gate and came to the truck window. Her eyes were green now, so Harvey knew she had stopped to put her contacts in.
“You can drive up to the house. Mrs. Blake will see you as soon as she’s dressed.”
Eddie eased the truck through the gate and up the driveway. It was quite a house, a huge white Queen Anne with three different styles of shingle siding, brackets under the eaves, and a turret on one corner. They didn’t build houses that way anymore, and only people with Martin Blake’s kind of money could maintain the old ones. Harvey wished Jennifer could see it. She liked antiques.
The assistant opened the front door for them. They stepped from the porch into a large entrance hall, with stairs rising to a landing above.
“I’m Barbara Helflin,” the young woman said. “You can wait in here.” She ushered them into a side room and left them.
Harvey looked around. The room looked comfortable in an upscale way—two sofas, stuffed chairs, assorted tables made in another century, a fireplace, oriental rugs on the oak floor. The paintings weren’t ones he would want in his house—a huge landscape on one wall, and an abstract over the fireplace. He squinted at that one and decided it was genuine, and expensive. In the bookcase were copies of guess whose books, in regular, large print, and foreign editions.
Eddie was looking out a French window, and Harvey stepped over beside him to see what was so interesting. He gazed at a swimming pool with a high fence around it. It could be reached via a wide deck outside the French window.
“Why do you suppose Martin Blake kept working as a reporter, when he was raking in millions from his books?” Eddie asked.
Blake had started as a reporter for the Portland Press Herald, then went on to become one of Maine’s most celebrated novelists. He wrote fat, passionate family sagas, churning out at least one a year, but continued to hold his job at the paper.
“I dunno,” Harvey said. “Maybe he used his job as fodder for his books.” He read a lot of books, but not Martin Blake’s.
“Gentlemen, how may I help you?”
They turned and faced Thelma Blake. Harvey had never seen her before, but had noticed her picture in the paper a few times. She was said to be eccentric, and he believed it. Her curly, platinum blonde hair looked very finished for so early in the morning, and he decided it was a wig. Her eyebrows and lashes were very dark, and her eyes were brown. She wore green eye shadow, bright red lipstick, and matching nail polish. Her toenails were red, too, peeking out of her sandals, and she wore a purple blouse and white pedal pushers.
Harvey introduced Eddie and himself. “Would you please sit down, ma’am? We have something to tell you.”
She looked mildly concerned, but not upset. She sat in one of the armchairs, and he sat on a sofa corner-wise to her. Eddie stayed by the window.
“Mrs. Blake,” Harvey began, “I have some bad news for you. Your husband has met with an accident.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “Martin? What’s happened? Is he hurt?”
“Yes, ma’am. Well, you see, he’s dead.” Harvey usually gave a smoother presentation than that. The toenail polish and the wig distracted him.
For a moment she sat still, seeming ready to laugh if he said, Just kidding. Then she said, “Oh, dear,” as though perturbed with her inconsiderate husband.
Harvey said, “I’m very sorry.”
“I can’t believe it. He was fine last night.”
“It’s true, ma’am. I’ve just seen him. His body.”
She let out a little sob and tears streamed down her cheeks. She pulled in a shaky breath. “What happened?”
“We’re not exactly sure. His body was found in the Fore River. We were wondering if you could tell us where your husband went last night.”
“We went to his class reunion yesterday. We got home about nine o’clock and had a couple of drinks. I went to bed, but Martin said he was going to write for a while.”
“Where does he do his writing, ma’am?”
“In his study, upstairs.”
“Is that the last time you saw him?”
“Yes, I guess it is. I slept soundly, and I didn’t hear him come into the bedroom, but sometimes he stays up all night or falls asleep in his study.”
“And, to your knowledge, he didn’t go out again?”
“He might have. Sometimes he goes out and walks at night to think about his plots.”
“I wonder if we could see his study, ma’am?”
She stood up and wobbled a little. Harvey put out his hand to steady her, but she crumpled up on him.
“Eddie, get that assistant girl.” Harvey laid her on the couch.
Eddie stepped quickly into the hall, calling, “Miss Heflin?”
To continue this story, look for the book, Fort Point, publishing date May 1, 2017.
Discussion questions for The Priority Unit
for Book Clubs and other groups
Harvey is firm about keeping his personal life separate from his professional duties, but that’s hard when he meets Jennifer. Eddie, on the other hand, blurs the lines. What can these two learn from each other?
Why does Tim call Harvey, when the rest of the Lewis family would be just as happy if he didn’t know about the funeral?
> Carrie’s grandmother plays a small but pivotal role in Harvey’s faith journey. How does God use this sweet elderly woman to draw him closer?
Harvey’s supposed to be the one with a past, but Jennifer made a bad choice in college and had to break off a romantic relationship gone bad. Now she wants to forget it, but it will come back later to be dealt with. What could she have done in this book to avoid a future confrontation between Harvey and “College Joe”?
Harvey is uneasy working with female officers. He doesn’t hate women, he says. He just doesn’t like to see them frisking suspects and shooting at criminals. Is Harvey hopelessly old-fashioned, or does he have a point? How can he step into the modern age on this front? What encouragement could Jennifer give him?
Mike is both a boss and a friend. What good things do you see in his relationship with Harvey?
Mike says frankly that his wife believes the Bible, but he doesn’t. He tells Jennifer, “I believe in Justice.” What would you say to Mike?
Eddie’s French-Canadian background and family have a profound influence on him. How is Eddie different because of it? What concessions does he make to his roots?
Jennifer says they all want to mother Eddie or marry him. How does this personality get Eddie in trouble? How does it save him?
Would you accept a proposal in a bookstore? Harvey negotiates the engagement period down from six months to six weeks. Is Jennifer wise to drop her final offer so low?
More of SUSAN PAGE DAVIS’S Mystery and Suspense books that you might enjoy:
The Saboteur
The Frasier Island Series:
Frasier Island
Finding Marie
Inside Story
Just Cause
Witness
On a Killer's Trail
Hearts in the Crosshairs
What a Picture’s Worth
The Mainely Mysteries Series (coauthored by Susan's daughter, Megan Elaine Davis)
Homicide at Blue Heron Lake
Treasure at Blue Heron Lake
Impostors at Blue Heron Lake
Trail to Justice
Tearoom Mysteries (from Guideposts, books written by several authors)
Tearoom for Two
Trouble Brewing
A selection of Susan’s Historical Novels:
River Rest (set in 1918)
The Crimson Cipher (set in 1915)
The Outlaw Takes a Bride (western)
Mrs. Mayberry Meets Her Match
The Seafaring Women of the Vera B. (Co-authored with Susan’s son James S. Davis, set in the 1850s)
The Ladies' Shooting Club Series (westerns)
The Sheriff's Surrender
The Gunsmith's Gallantry
The Blacksmith's Bravery
Captive Trail (western)
Cowgirl Trail (western)
Heart of a Cowboy (western collection)
The Prairie Dreams series (set in the 1850s)
The Lady’s Maid
Lady Anne’s Quest
A Lady in the Making
Maine Brides (set in 1720, 1820, and 1895)
The Prisoner’s Wife
The Castaway’s Bride
The Lumberjack’s Lady
Mountain Christmas Brides
Seven Brides for Seven Texans
See all of her books at www.susanpagedavis.com.
About the author: Susan Page Davis is the author of more than seventy published novels. She’s a two-time winner of the Inspirational Readers’ Choice Award and the Will Rogers Medallion, and also a winner of the Carol Award and a finalist in the WILLA Literary Awards. A Maine native, she now lives in Kentucky. Visit her website at: www.susanpagedavis.com , where you can see all her books, sign up for her occasional newsletter, and read a short story on her romance page. If you liked this book, please consider writing a review and posting it on Amazon, Goodreads, or the venue of your choice.
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