Read Online Angel Food and Devil Dogs by Liz Bradbury - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Liz Bradbury
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Mystery, Gay & Lesbian, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Lesbian
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Leo Getty will not be free for your appointment this morning. He must attend a meeting. He asks to meet you this evening in his office after 5:00 PM." I nodded as I changed my schedule on my laptop. "I will relay the confirmation to him. Yes, you are right," Miranda agreed, "Bart has... as you say, issues . I had no idea how he got to this employment level, until yesterday." I understood her meaning; nepotism was the glue that held Bart in his job. "Georgia Smith's injuries are more serious than Bart's, however, both were very lucky. Especially lucky that you were willing to risk your life."
I shrugged like Gary Cooper, but skipped saying, "Tweren't nothin."
She went on efficiently, "Georgia Smith received third degree burns, her synthetic clothing melted onto her skin. The burns are very serious but they do not cover much of her body. The back of her right leg was the most injured. She is in extreme pain and under heavy sedation." Miranda shook her head, then went on quietly, "It will be a long recovery, months, and there is risk of infection."
I nodded, "Anything else?"
"The firefighters think it may have been an accidental gas explosion from a pipe in the wall. Fire reached almost everything..."
"How was Bart able to dodge the impact of the explosion?"
"Shielded by something, perhaps..."
"Yes," I said thinking back, "I saw him." I formed a mental picture of yesterday. "Bart was reaching toward the back table, but he was kneeling on a chair, leaning over the back of it."
"Ah, well, he frequently chose the illogical way. It appears choosing the illogical way saved him this time. And he was wearing an all-natural fiber shirt. His arm... it was burned, but not like Georgia's. It turns out Bart is allergic to synthetics, so he does not wear them."
"He was unconscious... not breathing."
"He was thrown back. He had a concussion. He was very lucky that you, President Bouchet and Professor Daniel Cohen got him out when you did. It may have been the fumes that caused him to stop breathing, the CPR you performed was critical to his rescue. As it is, he may have to take several weeks off to recover. He will need therapy for the burns on his hand."
"Do the fire inspectors or the police have any more theories?"
"They were here much of last night but they say nothing yet. Do you want to go up there?" she asked, glancing at the ceiling.
"Where's Max Bouchet?" I asked.
"His personal office, in the President's mansion."
I paused then asked, "Would you say Bart's mistakes make people angry?"
" No hay duda." It was the Spanish idiom for, No doubt about it . Then her eyes widened and her veneer of composure slipped. "You think someone may have been trying to... to ... kill Bart Edgar... because of some stupid thing he did? It was an accident, was it not?" she asked incredulously. "I find this hard to comprehend."
"Ms. Juarez, isn't what happened yesterday and what happened to Carl Rasmus, generally hard to comprehend?"
She pulled herself together and said, "Yes..." she thought for a moment, then began again slowly, "last month Bart was working with a fundraising committee with Professor Jimmy Harmon. It had to do with the preservation of old time music from the... is it " Ozark" Mountains?" She pronounced it Oh-sark.
"Ozark," I said with more of a zee sound.
"Ozark," she repeated. "Bart had volunteered to be in charge of invitations. This was to be a $1000 dollar a couple black-tie event. Professor Harmon gave Bart all the information written on a sheet. All Bart had to do was give the sheet and the design to the printer. But he did not. For some reason he rewrote the information into an email. As time got closer, Professor Harmon asked Bart if he had checked information with the printer. Bart said yes, which was not true."
She went on, "The printed invitations, which were embossed and goldleafed, were reviewed at the next meeting. The date and time were wrong. Even the name of the event was misspelled. Professor Harmon was
I shrugged like Gary Cooper, but skipped saying, "Tweren't nothin."
She went on efficiently, "Georgia Smith received third degree burns, her synthetic clothing melted onto her skin. The burns are very serious but they do not cover much of her body. The back of her right leg was the most injured. She is in extreme pain and under heavy sedation." Miranda shook her head, then went on quietly, "It will be a long recovery, months, and there is risk of infection."
I nodded, "Anything else?"
"The firefighters think it may have been an accidental gas explosion from a pipe in the wall. Fire reached almost everything..."
"How was Bart able to dodge the impact of the explosion?"
"Shielded by something, perhaps..."
"Yes," I said thinking back, "I saw him." I formed a mental picture of yesterday. "Bart was reaching toward the back table, but he was kneeling on a chair, leaning over the back of it."
"Ah, well, he frequently chose the illogical way. It appears choosing the illogical way saved him this time. And he was wearing an all-natural fiber shirt. His arm... it was burned, but not like Georgia's. It turns out Bart is allergic to synthetics, so he does not wear them."
"He was unconscious... not breathing."
"He was thrown back. He had a concussion. He was very lucky that you, President Bouchet and Professor Daniel Cohen got him out when you did. It may have been the fumes that caused him to stop breathing, the CPR you performed was critical to his rescue. As it is, he may have to take several weeks off to recover. He will need therapy for the burns on his hand."
"Do the fire inspectors or the police have any more theories?"
"They were here much of last night but they say nothing yet. Do you want to go up there?" she asked, glancing at the ceiling.
"Where's Max Bouchet?" I asked.
"His personal office, in the President's mansion."
I paused then asked, "Would you say Bart's mistakes make people angry?"
" No hay duda." It was the Spanish idiom for, No doubt about it . Then her eyes widened and her veneer of composure slipped. "You think someone may have been trying to... to ... kill Bart Edgar... because of some stupid thing he did? It was an accident, was it not?" she asked incredulously. "I find this hard to comprehend."
"Ms. Juarez, isn't what happened yesterday and what happened to Carl Rasmus, generally hard to comprehend?"
She pulled herself together and said, "Yes..." she thought for a moment, then began again slowly, "last month Bart was working with a fundraising committee with Professor Jimmy Harmon. It had to do with the preservation of old time music from the... is it " Ozark" Mountains?" She pronounced it Oh-sark.
"Ozark," I said with more of a zee sound.
"Ozark," she repeated. "Bart had volunteered to be in charge of invitations. This was to be a $1000 dollar a couple black-tie event. Professor Harmon gave Bart all the information written on a sheet. All Bart had to do was give the sheet and the design to the printer. But he did not. For some reason he rewrote the information into an email. As time got closer, Professor Harmon asked Bart if he had checked information with the printer. Bart said yes, which was not true."
She went on, "The printed invitations, which were embossed and goldleafed, were reviewed at the next meeting. The date and time were wrong. Even the name of the event was misspelled. Professor Harmon was
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