American library books Β» Other Β» Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf) by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) πŸ“•

Read book online Β«Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf) by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) πŸ“•Β».   Author   -   Unknown



1 ... 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 ... 109
Go to page:
with Pinky, too, and--''

``Oh, were you the one who got my handbag?''

``No, I--''

``Because the cops say it disappeared.''

``Disappeared?'' I frowned. ``Darwin was going to take it to the store safe last night. He told me--''

``Obviously he didn't make it,'' Kerry snapped. ``Because I phoned this morning. He said the bag disappeared. Maybe he was lying, though. Everybody's conspiring to keep that bag away from me.''

``Kerry, honey--'' SLAY BELLES 47

``Quiet, Gramma. If you had gotten the bag for me last night like you were supposed to, maybe that shopping lady would still be alive. Did you think of that?''

Pinky looked down at her lap. ``No, I--''

``So shut up.'' Irritated, Kerry lifted her hand to adjust her ponytail.

Pinky flinched, as if ready to dodge a blow.

In Michael's arm, Spike snarled. Michael came out of the shadow cast by the curtains at last. He'd stood so still that Kerry hadn't noticed him before, but when he stepped into the light, she moved away from her grandmother instinctively.

``This is Michael Abruzzo,'' I said.

Kerry opened her mouth to speak, then reconsidered. Michael said nothing.

Pinky broke the short silence. ``What kind of dog is that?'' she asked. ``He's not very attractive, is he? I prefer a pug to any other kind of dog. They have such human expressions, don't you think?'' She gathered up one of the sleeping dogs beside her and lifted the animal to her own face. She made kissing sounds before chattering on. ``My wonderful little pugs--sometimes I think they're my old friends, reincarnated. This one, doesn't he look like my own father?''

Kerry sighed. ``I never knew your father, Gramma. You're losing your marbles. Am I going to have to hire someone to look after you? So you don't keep making stu- pid mistakes? I'd hate to see you lose all your money be- cause you can't take care of yourself.''

Pinky didn't answer. She petted her dog and didn't look at Kerry. Chapter 6

In the car, Michael said, ``That little bitch deserves a spanking.''

I hugged myself to stop shivering. ``She abuses her grandmother.''

Michael nodded. ``I think she beats the shit out of the old lady on a regular basis.''

He let the engine idle while we looked at the Pinkerton house and imagined what might be happening inside at that very minute.

I said, ``Pinky pays Kerry's bills. I saw the receipts. Last month somebody spent over three thousand dollars at a boutique I know. I'm sure Pinky doesn't wear shoes from that particular store, so it must be Kerry. And the hotel bills are near golf courses in Florida.''

``Yet Gramma cuts grocery coupons to keep herself in food.''

``And the house hasn't been updated in years. I wonder what it costs to finance a career in professional golf?''

``I'll bet it's not pocket change.'' Michael's white- knuckled fist rested on the steering wheel.

``Pinky isn't as helpless as Kerry pretends she is.''

``She's a tough old bird,'' Michael agreed. ``But the kid has her spooked.''

``Besides forcing her to pay bills, I wonder what else Kerry might be pushing Pinky to do. Pinky was obviously more desperate to acquire the handbag for Kerry than I'd first thought. If she returned home empty-handed, maybe she risked a beating from her granddaughter.''

Michael tapped his fist lightly on the wheel. ``I'm going back inside.''

48 SLAY BELLES 49

I reached for his arm to keep him in the car. ``They'll have you arrested,'' I said. ``And that doesn't help anyone.''

``It'll help me feel better.''

``A confrontation may escalate things at this point. There's a better way. When Kerry leaves day after tomor- row, I'll come back and talk to Pinky alone. She needs an ally before she goes to the authorities.''

Michael glared out the windshield at the house.

I leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek. ``Down boy,'' I said.

Unwillingly, we left the Pinkerton estate and drove into Philadelphia.

We discovered that Haymaker's department store was closed for the day because of the police investigation. Printed signs had been taped to all the locked doors. I could see employees inside, however, gathered in small groups. A uniformed police officer stood outside beside a forlorn Santa who dutifully rang his bell for the Salvation Army, despite the lack of shoppers. Michael slipped him a few bills.

``I suppose I can wait until tomorrow to talk to Darwin Osdack,'' I said as we walked to the Four Seasons for an afternoon snack.

We ordered a cheese plate and a bottle of a wine Michael had been wanting to try. It was delicious--very dry, yet hinting of berries in hot Italian sunshine. We talked about Popo's murder for a while; then Michael's cell phone began to chirp. While he gave monosyllabic answers to his caller, I sipped the wine and watched him, wondering if the time would ever come when I might want to know exactly what he was doing.

Michael closed his phone with a snap and said he had things to take care of and did I want to go home. I needed to attend a cocktail party for a small historical society in my role as the assistant to the Philadelphia Intelligencer's society columnist, so he agreed to take Spike and dropped me at the home of Trenton Aquinas of Society Hill.

``Nora, don't you look lovely,'' Trenton said when he opened the door and I identified myself.

``How would you know, Trent?'' I stepped carefully around his Seeing Eye dog, Buster, and gave his whiskery cheek a kiss. 50 Nancy Martin

``Well, you smell wonderful,'' he said on a laugh. ``Very feminine. Welcome to my party. Are you here on official newspaper business, or in response to my private invi- tation?''

``Can I be both?'' I asked.

``Of course. But I heard a rumor that your boss gets testy when you're invited as a guest and she's not.

1 ... 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 ... 109
Go to page:

Free e-book: Β«Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf) by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) πŸ“•Β»   -   read online now on website american library books (americanlibrarybooks.com)

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment