Murder in the River City(9)
Hal snorted. “Doubt it.”
She wrinkled her nose at Hal, then picked up her mug and walked across to the window seat Austin had saved for her. He immediately took her hand. “I was so worried about you, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby,” she said. She squeezed his hand, then extracted it from his grip. “I came here so you’d know I’m fine. It’s Mack who’s dead, and the police are investigating.” Not that they were doing enough. She was trying to figure out how to learn what they knew. But mostly, she wanted to follow through on the baseball. She could tell Detective John Black didn’t take her seriously. That irritated her almost as much as Austin calling her baby.
“If you need anything, Shauna, you know you can come to me.”
She smiled. Austin wasn’t a bad guy, just clingy, insecure, and a spendthrift. He thought the way to make friends was to spend money on them. People took advantage of that, and Shauna wasn’t going to be one of them. Austin was a smart guy—book smart. He’d earned his money by working hard, and she didn’t like most of his friends.
“I know, and I appreciate it.”
“Promise me you’ll stay away from that place. I’ve always thought it was too dangerous for you to come down here at night.”
Shauna glared at him and had to bite back her initial, knee-jerk comment. “Austin,” she said in a voice harsher than she wanted, “you have no say in what I do. Dooley’s is my granddad’s place. I was raised there. I’m not walking away.”
“Then let me escort you when—”
“No.” She took a deep breath and reminded herself that Austin was just helping the only way he knew how. “I appreciate your concern,” she said slowly, “but we’re not dating. We’re not together. You’re my friend, and as a friend I’ll take your concern to heart. But if the police are right, this was a robbery connected to others downtown and they won’t be coming back. Dooley has never been robbed before this, other than an employee stealing from the till now and again.”
“I was hoping you’d come to a gala with me Friday night. One of my clients is putting on a charity casino at the Hyatt—it’ll be fun.”
“Austin—”
“No strings. Not a date. I get that.” But he glanced away. Shauna knew what he was thinking—that if she had fun, she’d get back together with him. Because Austin could be fun. He was smart and generous.
But she wasn’t going to use him just for a little fun, especially since he had given her that creepy feeling on their last date.
“Thank you, Austin, really—but no.” She finished her coffee. “I need to get back to Dooley, make sure he gets home, then go through the insurance papers. He shouldn’t do it alone.”
“I’ll walk you back.”
She almost said no, but he looked at her so wistfully, so full of chivalrous concern, that she couldn’t dash his spirits.
She smiled with genuine appreciation and understanding. “Thank you.”
Chapter Five
Tuesday
After checking on Dooley, Shauna spent all morning at the library while waiting for Detective John Black to return her calls. She’s tried him last night, and again this morning. She’d even tried him through the Sac PD switchboard. Nothing worked.
She wanted to find out everything she could about the other robberies. She pulled all the newspaper articles and the local crime blog that seemed to have a lot more information than the papers. While she couldn’t find definitive proof that Mack’s murder and the other robberies weren’t connected, there were several glaring differences. She gathered all the information into a folder, then tried the detective again. No answer.
He was avoiding her.
She made the rounds to the two sports memorabilia stores in the area. All she had to tell them was that she was Patrick Dooligan’s granddaughter and they gave her all the information she needed. The night before she’d made a list of the missing baseballs and included a picture she’d copied from the insurance files. She gave them the information and asked two questions: Had anyone come in since Sunday with any of the baseballs? No. Had the police come by asking if anyone had come in? No.
She then visited the pawnshops within a five mile radius of the bar—all three of them—and asked the same questions. She learned the police had sent a fax to the pawnshops asking them to be on the lookout for stolen merchandise and mentioned the autographed baseballs. But there was no photo and no detailed description.
If John Black was as competent as he seemed yesterday, then he must know something else he hadn’t shared with her. She’d emailed him a copy of the file she had with her—the details and the photos—and he hadn’t given it to the pawnshops.