LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

my chest too. And I’d make sure Nora remembered this.

      “Only if you’re confessing that you’ve got something to do with the death, Miss—Ms.” One of the officers elbowed the other, a wide grin on his round face.

      My cheeks burned. “Absolutely not.” I was as indignant as a cat with its tail caught in a screen door and my voice was almost as screechy. I modulated my tone, conscious of the amused expression in the officer’s eyes. “And it’s Miss Franklin to you, young man.” I drew myself up to my full height of five feet nothing, my chin jutting out like the bow of a ship sailing full tilt into harbor. “I had nothing to do with it and neither did Mrs. Goldstein. And you can put that in your pipe and smoke it. If you smoke, that is. Personally, I’ve always found it to be a disgusting habit.”

      I shot Nora a triumphant glance, ignoring the stifled snort of laughter coming from one of the officers. My brilliant repartee would send them packing, their proverbial hats in their hands. This would be even better than Holmes and Watson or Poirot and Hastings. Franklin and Goldstein—another dynamic duo, Portland style.

      “Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say.” The detective motioned impatiently for Nora to step into the hall, rudely imploding my dream. “Mrs. Goldstein, we need to go.” He craned his neck around to stare directly at me. “And for your information, I don’t—oh, never mind. If I find out you had something to do with this, Miss Franklin, you can bet I’ll be back for you.”

      “It’ll be okay, Sis. Don’t you worry. And just ignore Mister Sunshine there.” Nora patted her frizzy hair into submission, her fingers lingering for a moment over the spot where the fake ponytail had been. “Make sure you send the boy to the next job, all right?”

      “And what job might that be?” the plainclothes officer asked as they walked off. I heard Nora laughingly reply, “Scooping poop, Officer. Scooping poop.” What did he think she meant? Another murder?

      Closing the door behind them, I slowly turned around and faced the empty room. I was alone in Nora’s apartment. Alone with a recent crime scene. Where someone had died. Quite messily. My stomach lurched and I hastily took a drink of my cold coffee. I didn’t believe in ghosts. I really didn’t, but I wouldn’t put it past Linda Fletcher to hang about, if only to give Nora a hard time. Eternal feuding, Portland style.

      A loud knock on the door sent me to my feet as though there was an ejector button in the sofa. With a trembling hand, I opened the door to see a grinning Brent standing there with a small puppy wriggling in his arms.

      “Look what I found, Miss F.” He held out the dog for me to see, a proud smile on his broad face. “Wanna hold her?”

      “Keep that thing away from me.” I quickly backed away from Brent and his furry companion. “I’m allergic to dogs. And you can’t bring it in here. Where’d you get it, anyway?” I stared at the small puppy, its eyes a warm brown in a rather endearing face. It was cute enough to make me wish I could hold it.

      “It’s a her. See?” He held the puppy up so I could view its nether regions.

      I backed up even farther. “I’ll take your word for it, and it’s a she, not a her.” I watched as he cuddled the tiny dog close to his dress shirt, now wrinkled beyond redemption. “And you still can’t keep it—her.”

      “That’s what I said, a her. And I know. I’m watching her for the client.” He spoke the last word with relish. “So, you wanna watch her while I go on the next job?”

      “Absolutely not.” My voice was firm and the smile slid off his face. “You either take her with you or back to her owner. Bringing animals to Mrs. Goldstein’s apartment is not part of the agreement.”

      “Speaking of, where is Mrs. G?” He stepped farther into the apartment, bending down to set the puppy on the ground. It instantly squatted, leaving a small wet spot on Nora’s immaculate carpet.

      “Brent, get that creature out of here! I not only need to clean up after a dead body, I’ve now got to clean up after a dog.” I glared at him, hands on my hips.

      “Dead body? What dead body?” He grabbed the puppy to his broad chest as though it could act as a shield, staring at me with both eyebrows hovering around his hairline.

      Oh, fabulous. I’d let slip exactly what we’d wanted to keep from him. So much for my carefully concocted oven inspection story.

      “It’s complicated.” I sighed as I flopped back onto the sofa, patting the cushion beside me. “Here, sit down while I explain. Staring up at you is giving me a neck ache. And keep that dog on your lap.” I gave the adorable bundle of fur a hard stare. I didn’t want this one to leave its calling card on Nora’s carpet.

      With as little fanfare as possible, as Brent was the type of student who needed only the basics in order to comprehend a new concept, I told him about the ongoing clash of personalities between Nora and Linda and the many nasty tricks they’d played on one another.

      “And to be honest, Brent, I wouldn’t have put it past her to fake her death in Nora’s kitchen to give us a heart attack.” I clutched at the front of my shirt, recalling the ride to the apartment from the coffee house. “It’s almost how I feel when you drive.”

      “What’s wrong with my driving?” He sounded hurt, a great big child sitting there clutching his puppy.

      It made me feel guilty. For about a second.

      “Let’s say I hope you clean up after dogs better than you navigate Portland’s roads.” I slapped my palms against my thighs and stood, gesturing to the front door. “Now get that dog back to her owner and make sure you take care of the rest of the jobs, all right?”

      With a pouting Brent sent on his way, I worked on scrubbing up the evidence of the dog’s visit, glancing occasionally over my shoulder toward the kitchen. I hated the idea of the mess I knew was in there, but I wasn’t that enthusiastic about cleaning it up either.

      “Yoo hoo! Is anyone home?”

      Nora’s apartment was busier than The Friendly Bean on payday. I turned around from where I was working on restoring the carpet to its pre-puppy state to see the building’s concierge standing there, her eyes wide as she stared at me.

      “Can I help you?” I managed to get to my feet without falling over, each knee sending out a warning shot as I straightened my legs. “Nora isn’t here at the moment.” I stared back at her, noting her hair looked worse than Nora’s did, if that was even possible. I made a mental note to find out whether they saw the same stylist.

      “Actually, I ran up here to see if there was anything I could do to help you. To help Nora, I mean.” She edged farther inside the living room, looking around curiously as she did. “So, where did she find the body?”

      “Body?” I managed to insert an element of surprise into my voice, tilting my head to the side like an inquisitive robin. Or maybe a tropical bird. I was beginning to feel very much out of my comfort zone, what with Phoebe Hayward, the Portland PD, and now the concierge moving in and out of Nora’s apartment like some Neil Simon farce. “What body might that be? And I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name. I’m Gwen Franklin.” Rubbing my damp hand against my leg, I held it out.

      “I’m Patsy, Patsy Reilly.” She took my hand and gave it a brief shake before dropping it and tucking her hands inside her pockets. “And I’m talking about the body they hauled out of here not too long ago.”

      “Oh, that body.” I gave a short laugh, trying to sound as if there were so many bodies in and out of here I couldn’t keep track of them. “She was in the kitchen. The body was, I mean. And Nora was as well. In the kitchen.” I was babbling now, but I was darned if I was going to give out any more information. “It was Linda Fletcher,” I added helpfully and then could have bit my tongue.

      “Really? Linda Fletcher, huh?” Patsy started toward the kitchen, her face avid with interest. “Those two hated each other. Are you sure Nora didn’t do it?”

Скачать книгу