A Cry For Self-Help (A Kate Jasper Mystery) - Plot & Excerpts
Woolsey demanded. Most of them, my mind responded. But I kept my mouth shut. No one, not even Felix, was the type to pull a practical joke this weird. “None of our friends or acquaintances pinned a trocar to our door,” Wayne answered clearly, his low voice sounding calmer than I was sure he was feeling. “Don’t you think it’s more likely to be related to the Skyler murder?” “How should I know?” Woolsey shot back. Then he abruptly threw out his arms, to their full extension this time. Officer Fox ducked again, no expression on his round face. Apparently he’d had a lot of practice avoiding Woolsey’s arms. “Fox!” Woolsey shouted, though the man was less than a foot away from him. Poor guy, I thought, he was no fox, not with that doughy round face and recessive chin. But he was quick. “Yes, sir,” he answered promptly, standing at attention. “Go check out that…that thing,” Woolsey ordered. My eyes followed Officer Fox as he checked out the trocar. I couldn’t seem to stop them.
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