Read Online A Murderous Glaze by Melissa Glazer - Free Book Online Page B

Her hair was like spun platinum, and her carriage was haughtily erect. I only hoped I’d look half that good when I was her age.
    “I know you,” she said lightly. “You run that quaint little shop in the village.”
    “Fire at Will,” I admitted.
    “What a delightful name. Well, don’t just stand there. Come in. James, we’ll have coffee in the parlor. Unless you’d prefer tea,” she said, looking at me. “I have some wonderful blends.”
    “Coffee’s fine,” I said.
    “Wonderful. Come now, don’t tarry.”
    I followed her into the living room, trying to take in all of the real antiques along the way. Despite the evidence to the contrary about her choice in men, in other things, Tamra Gentry had excellent taste. The theme in the living room was Queen Anne–style furniture, and an original Monet hung on one wall. The Oriental rug covering the mahogany floors was so lush I wanted to kick off my shoes and walk barefoot on it, but I doubted my hostess would appreciate that.
    Tamra sat down on a settee and patted the spot beside her. “I heard something about a fundraiser,” she said. “What is the village up to now?”
    She was so light and breezy with her conversation style I hardly noticed her condescending tone. I said the first thing that popped into my head. “They’re updating their book collection in the school library at the elementary school. The old ones are dated and falling apart.”
    I had no idea whether it was true, but it sounded like a believable reason for my visit.
    “That’s just dreadful,” she said in that same birdsong cadence. I could imagine her declaring the end of the world with the same airy tone. “I’m a huge fan of the written word.”
    “I hate to trouble you with it,” I said.
    “It’s no bother at all. I’m rattling around this place with no one to talk to but James, and his interest in conversation is rather limited. To be honest with you, I’m happy for the diversion. So tell me, what’s going on down in the village?”
    It was the perfect opportunity, and one I wasn’t about to waste. “Betty Wickline was murdered. Have you heard about that? You knew Betty, didn’t you?”
    She frowned, though no lines formed on her tightened features. “No, I can’t say I recall the name.”
    “I believe she sat on the jury during your murder trial.”
    I’d been hoping for some kind of reaction, but all of the plastic surgery she’d had must have given Tamra an incredible poker face because her expression did not change in the slightest. “I don’t dwell on the unpleasantness of the past,” she said.
    “Your attorney knew her,” I said abruptly. “Someone spotted them talking right after the case.”
    “Then perhaps you should speak with him,” she said softly, then added, “Ah, here’s our coffee. You may pour, James.”
    It was an excellent brew, and there were the most delightful cookies on the tray as well. I found myself swept up in idle conversation, and only too late, I realized I’d told the woman much more about myself than she had told me about her. She was as skillful an interrogator as I’d ever seen. Sheriff Hodges could take lessons from her.
    After our repast, she ushered me out the door without a single opportunity to follow up with more questions about Betty’s death. The woman was smooth, I had to give her that.
    As I was about to leave, James suddenly appeared with something in his hands. Tamra glanced at it, signed it, then gave it to me. “That should do nicely, don’t you think?”
    It was a check for five thousand dollars, made out to the Maple Ridge Library Book Fund. Blast it all, now I’d have to convince the principal that they needed new books, and somehow explain how I’d started this fundraiser in the first place without consulting her.
     
    I wasn’t ready to go home yet, though if we were going to eat on time, I’d have to get started making dinner pretty soon. Bill, bless his heart, had tried to learn to cook when