Read Online A Geek Girl's Guide to Arsenic by Julie Anne Lindsey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julie Anne Lindsey
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nowhere to hide without summer’s bushy foliage.
Torches tossed orange flames into the sky, casting shadows over the world. Heavy feet crushed leaves and insects in a stampede to find me.
Panic mounted in my heart and head until I screamed. A bloodcurdling wail that burned my lungs.
I jerked my head off the desk and groaned. “What on earth?” When had I fallen asleep and what was all the racket? I wiped drool from the corners of my mouth and acclimated myself.
My phone buzzed and vibrated on the desk, inches from where my head had lain. A British squad car siren blared from the tiny speaker as it shook. I slapped it. “Stahp.”
The nuisance ceased.
“Thank you. Yeesh.” I stood on rubber legs and grabbed the phone. There were still two hours before I had to get up for work, and a soft warm bed called to me.
Shuffling toward my room, the blasted alarm began again.
“What?” I barked into the phone, steps from my beloved bed, still reeling from the wretched dream.
“Mrs. Connors?” An unfamiliar voice opened my eyes, ripping me back to the present.
Unease crawled over me. “Yes?” Normally, I made a big deal of being addressed as Mrs., but the snap in this man’s tone warned there was no time for that.
“Your name is on the contact information at 1121 Portage Street. Ye Ole Madrigal Craft Faire. Booth 12.”
I leaned against the wall for support. “Yes. What’s wrong? Were there vandals?” With all the negative publicity today, I wasn’t surprised.
“Yes, ma’am. An arsonist.”
“Arson?”
“I’m afraid so. How soon can you get here?”
Bugger.
Chapter Seven
Gnarled smoke fingers clawed the night sky above my family’s booth. A smattering of firemen chatted near the truck, content with their efforts, while a few scattered embers smoldered in defiance. The booth was toast.
Grandma was going to have a thousand consecutive strokes when she heard about this. I focused on the positive to keep from screaming. At least no one was hurt. At least it was the middle of the night and would be cleaned up before the Faire reopened in the morning.
“Miss?” A hand landed on my shoulder.
I whacked the interloper free of my person and spun.
A man twice my age lifted both palms in the air. His blue jacket and badge stopped my racing heart. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but you can’t be here.” His expression softened, as if he’d read my flailing thoughts. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, and I’m supposed to be here.” The weight of the situation settled over me. My shoulders sagged and my feet ached. “This is my booth. My family’s booth. Someone called and asked me to come down.”
The man rocked back on his heels and looped stumpy thumbs behind his belt buckle. “Well, I suppose that was me. You’re Mia Connors?”
I nodded sharply and batted my eyes against acrid smoke in the changing wind. “Do you have any idea how the fire started?”
The officer turned toward a knot of firefighters and trench coats and motioned me to follow. “Detective Archer wants to handle this personally. I’ll introduce you. He’s the one in black.”
I speed-walked past the officer. “I know who he is.”
Dan raised his chin, mid-belly laugh. His gaze met mine, and he excused himself and came up to me before I reached them.
I shoved hair off my wind-battered cheek. “What’s happening? Who would do this?”
He shifted his weight. A look of dissatisfaction crossed his normally amicable face. “We have a confession from Melanie Warner. The lady you met earlier.”
“I remember her.” How could I forget?
“She thinks you killed John Francis, but she’s not in her right mind at the moment.” He tipped his head toward the cruiser ten yards away.
Melanie sobbed behind the backseat window.
“You’re kidding. She did this?”
“Yep. Grief does things to people. She’s going to need time and a little counseling, but she’ll get through this.”
I gave him my best crazy
Torches tossed orange flames into the sky, casting shadows over the world. Heavy feet crushed leaves and insects in a stampede to find me.
Panic mounted in my heart and head until I screamed. A bloodcurdling wail that burned my lungs.
I jerked my head off the desk and groaned. “What on earth?” When had I fallen asleep and what was all the racket? I wiped drool from the corners of my mouth and acclimated myself.
My phone buzzed and vibrated on the desk, inches from where my head had lain. A British squad car siren blared from the tiny speaker as it shook. I slapped it. “Stahp.”
The nuisance ceased.
“Thank you. Yeesh.” I stood on rubber legs and grabbed the phone. There were still two hours before I had to get up for work, and a soft warm bed called to me.
Shuffling toward my room, the blasted alarm began again.
“What?” I barked into the phone, steps from my beloved bed, still reeling from the wretched dream.
“Mrs. Connors?” An unfamiliar voice opened my eyes, ripping me back to the present.
Unease crawled over me. “Yes?” Normally, I made a big deal of being addressed as Mrs., but the snap in this man’s tone warned there was no time for that.
“Your name is on the contact information at 1121 Portage Street. Ye Ole Madrigal Craft Faire. Booth 12.”
I leaned against the wall for support. “Yes. What’s wrong? Were there vandals?” With all the negative publicity today, I wasn’t surprised.
“Yes, ma’am. An arsonist.”
“Arson?”
“I’m afraid so. How soon can you get here?”
Bugger.
Chapter Seven
Gnarled smoke fingers clawed the night sky above my family’s booth. A smattering of firemen chatted near the truck, content with their efforts, while a few scattered embers smoldered in defiance. The booth was toast.
Grandma was going to have a thousand consecutive strokes when she heard about this. I focused on the positive to keep from screaming. At least no one was hurt. At least it was the middle of the night and would be cleaned up before the Faire reopened in the morning.
“Miss?” A hand landed on my shoulder.
I whacked the interloper free of my person and spun.
A man twice my age lifted both palms in the air. His blue jacket and badge stopped my racing heart. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but you can’t be here.” His expression softened, as if he’d read my flailing thoughts. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, and I’m supposed to be here.” The weight of the situation settled over me. My shoulders sagged and my feet ached. “This is my booth. My family’s booth. Someone called and asked me to come down.”
The man rocked back on his heels and looped stumpy thumbs behind his belt buckle. “Well, I suppose that was me. You’re Mia Connors?”
I nodded sharply and batted my eyes against acrid smoke in the changing wind. “Do you have any idea how the fire started?”
The officer turned toward a knot of firefighters and trench coats and motioned me to follow. “Detective Archer wants to handle this personally. I’ll introduce you. He’s the one in black.”
I speed-walked past the officer. “I know who he is.”
Dan raised his chin, mid-belly laugh. His gaze met mine, and he excused himself and came up to me before I reached them.
I shoved hair off my wind-battered cheek. “What’s happening? Who would do this?”
He shifted his weight. A look of dissatisfaction crossed his normally amicable face. “We have a confession from Melanie Warner. The lady you met earlier.”
“I remember her.” How could I forget?
“She thinks you killed John Francis, but she’s not in her right mind at the moment.” He tipped his head toward the cruiser ten yards away.
Melanie sobbed behind the backseat window.
“You’re kidding. She did this?”
“Yep. Grief does things to people. She’s going to need time and a little counseling, but she’ll get through this.”
I gave him my best crazy
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