BooksBarbecue
Back Minutes to Kill
Chapters (45)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  42. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  43. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  44. Acknowledgments
  45. About the Author

Patience was a virtue, but Mick wasn’t a virtuous man. He didn’t want to wait until the opportunity to grab her presented itself. He wanted her now. His fingers curled into a fist and punched his thigh.

If only he had something—or someone—to relieve his frustration.

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

At seven o’clock Monday morning, Brody parked his sedan in front of Jim’s News Agency. He went inside. The scent of tobacco hit his nose. Not cigarettes. He walked through the store. Rows of displays filled the long, narrow shop. Books and magazines occupied two aisles. The third was filled with tins of pipe tobacco. Brody picked up a red tin. Cherry-flavored. A whiff of the tin brought back memories of his grandfather. He carried it to the register.

An elderly clerk sat on a wooden stool behind the counter. Three people lined up to pay for their items. Brody waited while the clerk rang up their newspapers, coffees, and packs of cigarettes. Brody put the tin of tobacco on the counter and paid in cash. The clerk gave him his change and a receipt.

“Is the ink always red?” Brody asked.

“I’ve been working here five years. Been red that whole time.” The clerk’s dentures clacked.

Not the store where Jane Doe bought her cigarettes.

“Thanks.” Brody left the shop. He tossed the tin on the passenger seat of his car. Why had he bought tobacco? He didn’t smoke. He hadn’t thought about his grandfather in a long time, but today, he missed him.

He was midway down his list of local cigarette vendors where Jane Doe might have purchased her pack of smokes. He’d spent most of yesterday evening generating a list of newsstands, liquor stores, convenience stores, and gas stations that sold cigarettes within ten miles of Scarlet Falls. Following the receipt was a long shot, but for the moment, it was the only clue Brody had at his disposal.

He’d pared his initial list down to a dozen of the most likely possibilities. He crossed any large chain stores off his list. A large franchise would have its name at the top of the receipt. He’d already visited two independent gas stations and a convenience store. No matches.