Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight) Blake Pierce (classic english novels TXT) 📖

shoulders risingand falling, and then he turned, slowly, raising a woolly eyebrow to examinewhere Adele stood in the door.

“Police you said?”

The man had more wrinkles than a Shar-Pei. His ears weredrooping, and his nose quite long. His eyes seemed kind, but creased withsagging wrinkles, and more bags then a Parisian at a shopping center.

“Yes, sir. Are you Mr. Becker?”

“I try to be. What’s this about?” He held up a finger andthen added, “Actually, I’d like to see some identification first.” He spokesoftly, carefully, as if placing each word like a brick laying a foundation. Hedidn’t raise his voice, rather allowing the silence to carry his intentions.

Adele stiffly removed her wallet and raised her credentialsonce more.

Instinctively, she began to lower the wallet again, butbefore she could, a hand reached out and held her, gently lifting her hand justa bit, and the older man leaned in, his eyes narrowed as he read slowly. Hecontinued to read, taking in every inch and detail of the badge before at lastlowering his own hand and nodding.

Hesitantly, Adele stowed her identification.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Becker!” a voice called from behind Adele. “Itried to stop her.”

Adele kicked back with her heel, shutting the door with a thunk.

The older man didn’t seem amused or worried, and insteadzeroed his full attention on Adele. Next to him was a bookshelf with an entirerow of what looked like encyclopedias, or maybe law journals. Whatever thecase, there were many volume sets of green- and purple- and gold-bound books.Books, Adele was nearly certain, she’d never seen, much less read in her life.

“How can I help you, Agent Adele Sharp?” Still that soft,strolling tone of voice.

“I’m here about a property you sold to Mr. Etienne Durand,”she said.

For the first time, a flash of emotion creased the olderman’s expression. He blinked and swallowed once. “If I remember correctly, Mr. Durandand I have not done business for nearly a decade. I wouldn’t involve myselfwith that…” He trailed off, coughed once and shook his head. “That man,if you put a gun to my head. Are you here to broker a deal for him? Because Ihave to say the answer is no. An emphatic no.”

“I’m not here for Mr. Durand. I’m here as an investigator,and I’m more concerned with one of the pieces of land you sold him.”

The older gentleman crossed his arms. “Which one?”

Adele hesitated. “You need a computer? Do you have files?”

“We have files. But I don’t need them. Which parcel? Wesold him six.”

Adele blinked. “You’re certain?”

“August second, a decade ago. Yes, I’m sure.” He tapped afinger against his forehead. “I keep most of my files up here. That technology,”he wiggled a hand toward her pocket. “It only makes the generation stupider.”

Adele couldn’t help but agree, but she didn’t particularlylike having it pointed out. Still, she tried to stay on track. “All right,” shesaid, hurriedly. “So you remember all the properties. I’m specificallyinterested in 632 Route de Contis.”

The older man closed his eyes for a moment, the wrinklesaround his lids smoothing just a bit and giving him a peaceful look as if hewere sleeping. But then he dipped his head once and opened his eyes. “Yes, Iremember it. Some old ruins were cleared out so we could renovate a new house.We sold it, but then the buyers backed out of the new construction. At thetime, the area was having a recession.” He shook his head. “I thought I hadbought some bad land. Sold it to Mr. Etienne, all six parcels as a bundle.”Here, Mr. Becker frowned even deeper. “He got it for a steal. Still bothers me.”

“Mr. Durand did say he got a very good deal for theproperty.”

“An extraordinarily good deal,” Mr. Becker said with asnort. “So what does that have to do with the DGSI?”

“I’m specifically interested in that property’s history. Isthere anything else you can tell me? Who did you originally buy it from?”

The man paused, frowning for a moment, and then said, “Actually,I do remember that too.”

Adele stared, swallowing back a sudden surge of excitement.

“Who?”

He shrugged simply. “It was the church.” Mr. Becker nodded,putting both his hands in his baby blue suit pockets. “Yes, the church. In fact,they were selling off quite a bit of land which we bought up at the time.”

 He knocked a hand against the desk and smiled. “Includingthis office space, in fact. They were allowing people to tear down old conventsand cloisters. If I remember correctly that second location was bought from thechurch.”

Adele exhaled through her nose, thinking of the thirdlocation she’d visited—the miniature castle. “Do you know anything about 121 onthe same street?”

The man wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think I was involved inthat sale. I do remember it, though. Yes, if I remember correctly I was outbidfor that particular piece. Another steal of a sale. That one went a few yearsafter the one I sold to Mr. Durand if I remember correctly.”

Adele’s mouth felt dry all of a sudden. “Also from the church?”

“I believe so, yes. It would have been at the same auctionwhere I won the properties. Why do you ask, Agent Adele Sharp?”

Adele could feel her mind spinning, tracking the impartedinformation. Twice now, it had become clear the land was sold on the cheap. Hereyes narrowed and she glanced toward Mr. Becker… Could he have possibly beeninvolved? Was that the connection? He’d owned the land the second home wasbuilt on, and he had a specific knowledge of the third, miniaturecastle-shaped, home.

What about the first, though? The one with the stainedglass window in the bathroom?

Adele studied Mr. Becker a moment longer, doing her bestnot to betray her thoughts. Was this unassuming, elderly man somehow involved?

Could he be a suspect?

CHAPTER TWENTY

She winced at the thought. He didn’t seem particularlystrong. His age alone precluded him from running down three victims, chokingthe life out of them.

Still… maybe he had an accomplice?

Delicately, Adele folded her arms and in a soft voice said,“If you don’t mind me asking, sir, where have you been this last week?”

Becker acknowledged her with a frown, but then blinked andshook his head. “Excuse me?”

“Just a formality,” she