Out of the Running - Softcover

Timmerman, Robin

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1490790683 ISBN 13: 9781490790688

Verlag: Trafford, 2018

Inhaltsangabe

It’s sweet, blooming June and Marathon fever has descended on Middle Island. Where some folks like to idle and savour the roadside flowers, others like to run. All in a good cause too, raising the funds for a new scanner at the Bonville and District Hospital. But for Chief Halstead and Officer Pete Jakes, the run is shaping up to be a major headache, taking police man hours away from their investigation into a rash of equipment robberies that might be connected to an international thieving ring. The influx of tourists may be good for Island business but it’s difficult to patrol local roads that are busy with runners practising for the event. Especially when bodies start to appear on the Marathon route and it seems that some people are literally dying to run. __________________________________________ Be sure to look for previous books in the Middle Island Mysteries series. ‘Pity of the Winds’, ‘Season of Deceit’, ‘Crimes of Summer’, and ‘Threat of Autumn’. Robin Timmerman is a member of Crime Writers of Canada.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Be sure to look for previous books in the Middle Island Mysteries series. Pity of the Winds, Season of Deceit, Crimes of Summer, and Threat of Autumn. Robin Timmerman is a member of Crime Writers of Canada.

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Out of the Running

By Robin Timmerman

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2018 Robin Timmerman
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4907-9068-8

CHAPTER 1

June, sweet June!

On Middle Island, the ditches glow with spreading stands of orange daylilies.

The roadsides are exploding with pink and purple phlox, rivaling the best works of the Impressionists.

Even the gravelled road edges produce the color and scent of pink clover, the gossamer puffs of hairy goatsbeard and the exquisite weave of queen anne's lace.

In the swamp, a tall blue heron fishes, green frogs rest on lily pads. Incandescent dragon and damsel flies dart, jewelled wings reflecting the sunlight.

And rising from the juicy green water, there is the curve of a large, olive-coloured shell

Small eyes and a heavy snout

A female snapping turtle, about to pull herself up on a moss-encrusted log.

But at the sound of approaching, thudding footsteps, she hesitates. The heron grows still, the frogs dive beneath the lilypads. The other, larger beings move quickly on the path, breathing hard as they pass. The big snapper slides back into the water.

The runners continue, paying no heed. They will spare no time to savour summer's beauty There is ground to cover and a stopwatch clicking in a pocket. They disappear around a curve in the path.

The morning is quiet again, the water creatures return to their various pursuits. The snapper scrambles with her scaly claws and pulls herself up on the log. She weighs nearly twenty pounds, it's a big effort. But the disturbance is gone, at least for the moment. And the sun feels so good.

* * *

The first thing they noticed was the shoes, good quality running shoes sticking out of the grassy verge that bordered the track. The man-made rubber and leather footwear made a jarring note against the backdrop of softly nodding pink and purple phlox flowers and the slender stems of delicate buttercups.

Chief Halstead had given out only terse details.

"A couple of women found the guy, near the kilometer 8 post. His feet were sticking out of the bushes onto the road."

"Dead?"

"Seems to be. The caller just said that the man wasn't moving and he looked dead. They were out on a practice run."

Officer Pete Jakes winced. "Lucky they had their cell phones with them."

Halstead snorted. "Doesn't everybody nowadays?"

"You have to admit they come in handy sometimes, chief."

Pete slowed at the Benson crossroad turn and pulled off onto the grass. He drew up beside a red Honda, the only car there. Luckily this was a section of the upcoming Marathon route where the runners would be travelling right on the actual road, making easy access for the ambulance. Other sections were a gravelled or dirt track that ran past picturesque farm fields and woodlots and made a big curve around the swamp.

A woman was slumped on the roadside, she looked ill. Her friend was tending to her, offering a water bottle. She looked up as the officers arrived.

"Oh thank goodness, you're here," she said fervently, standing up. "I think my friend here is in shock."

Halstead introduced himself as Pete moved quickly across the road. He assured her that an ambulance was coming.

She took a breath. She seemed a sensible woman and not unduly overcome, like her friend.

"Ginny was running on that side and she noticed the colour of his shirt, she thought it was a clump of bright flowers I guess. I had run on ahead but I heard her cry out, so I stopped. She was pointing into the ditch and her face was white as a sheet. When I pushed the weeds aside a bit, I could see the blue and white marathon shirt … on a man," she added.

"Did you touch him?" Halstead asked. "Could he speak?"

"I work at the admitting desk of a city hospital," she said. "I'm not a nurse but I know enough to check for vital signs, to see if he was alive."

That explained her relative calm, Halstead thought.

"He was face down and there was blood under his head," she went on. "I told Ginny to call 911 right away. Then I came to wait with her over here. I went to check on the man a couple of times but there was no change and I couldn't find a pulse. I didn't try to turn him over."

"Chief," Pete called. "Can you come here a minute?"

Halstead excused himself. "Wrap a sweater around your friend," he told the woman. Keep her warm."

Pete was crouched in the roadside weeds, looking down at the victim.

A man, as she had said. Face down in the dirt. He wore running sweats, the Marathon blue t-shirt, and the tell-tale sneakers. The matching marathon cap had flown off and lay in the weeds some distance away.

Pete indicated the awkwardly sprawled legs, the arms thrown out in a desperate attempt to break the fall. Stated the obvious.

"He's been hit by a vehicle."

Halstead nodded, his expression grim.

"Damn." He stood and scowled at the mute trees that lined this bit of the road.

"I knew this Marathon business was going to be bad news."

CHAPTER 2

THREE WEEKS EARLIER.

"This way, lads." Bert Jardine greeted the two policemen. "Glad you could come out so quick, it's the darnedest thing." The Jardine farm was a typically well-kept Island operation. Two hundred acres of mixed grain and soy crops surrounding a century old, three-story red brick home and neatly-painted outbuildings. Six generations of Jardines had lived and farmed on the property, and the blue and white Ontario heritage sign proudly displayed on a post by the mailbox, confirmed this.

Bert Jardine was a big man but showing his sixty-odd years and Pete thought that he would soon be passing on the running of the farm to the next generation, his three sons. A handsome golden retriever, with the affability of the breed, enthusiastically followed his master and the two policemen to a large metal sided garage at the side of the house. The hooped roof and oversized entrance doors showed that the building was used to store farm machinery and equipment.

A crudely smashed lock and dented metal siding definitely looked out of place in such an orderly set-up. Pete nodded to his partner, Jory Stutke to take a picture.

Jardine grimaced. "That's a mess isn't it? Going to cost me a few bucks to fix it too. At least the devils didn't get much for all their work."

He patted the big dog's head. "Thanks to Sammy here, waking us up."

"This was around ten last night?" Pete asked.

The farmer nodded.

"You were all in the house asleep?"

"Yup"

This time of year most farmers were in bed by nine. Then up at 5:00 a.m. to do chores. The thieves could have driven into the lane by the garage and not be seen from the bedroom windows at the back of the house. They could have taken off with a lot more if the dog hadn't woken the family.

"You said they got a chain saw though?"

Bert scowled. "A good one too, cost me near a thousand bucks. Only bought the damn thing this winter. The old one broke when the lads were working down in the swamp."

Pete sighed, already knowing the answer. "I don't suppose you know the serial number or any other identifying mark."

Jardine shrugged, "Never needed to to before this. Ted White, my neighbour has been sharing equipment with me for years. If my chain saw or seeder wasn't here, it was up at his place. Nobody had to break into nowhere. And who wants to steal a chainsaw unless they want to work?"

Unless you can get a few quick bucks for selling the thing.

Pete could see that Jory had the same unsaid thought.

Jardine scowled. "But I guess things are different...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Trafford
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2018
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1490790683
• ISBN 13: 9781490790688
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 250
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar