Read Online Aurora 07 - Last Scene Alive by Charlaine Harris - Free Book Online

evening’s excursion with the movie people. I was relieved they wouldn’t be eating anywhere in town—but Heavenly Barbecue, a huge and popular place on the outskirts of the Lawrenceton side of Atlanta, was often as warm with locals.
    Through a haze of misgiving, I couldn’t shake a certain sense of anticipation. I felt like I’d agreed to a date with a rough, sexy guy from the wrong side of the tracks.
    It had been a long time since I’d had plans for the evening beyond a dinner with my mother and her new family, or renting a move to watch with Sally or the Youngbloods. As I worked at the library that afternoon, directing patrons to the right section of the stacks or dealing with the copier (which was at the stage of having to be nursed through every encounter with the public), I thought about my invitation from the movie people much too often. I just had time to shower and change when I left work.
    I had to resist the temptation to buy more new clothes. I refused to spend more than five minutes deciding what to put on that evening, but I did check over my chosen shirt and slacks to decide if they needed ironing. As I was frowning at a little crease in my khakis, the telephone rang.
    “Uh-huh?” I said into the receiver, my mind a thousand miles away.
    “Ms. Teagarden?” The crisp voice could only belong to Patricia Bledsoe, Sam derrick’s secretary. Patricia the Paragon, as Perry Allison had taken to calling her after she’d found a mistake in his paycheck that cost him money.
    “Yes, who’s calling?” I didn’t want to sound too sure. Why on earth would the woman phone me?
    “This is Mrs. Bledsoe,” she said, sounding as surprised to be calling as I was to be called.
    “What can I do for you?” I asked, trying to modify my voice so my words wouldn’t sound abrupt. I’d been at work for seven hours. Why hadn’t she taken the opportunity to talk to me then?
    “My son Jerome really wants to see the film crew on the job,” she said carefully. “Mr.
    Allison just now told me that you had visited the set this morning. So I was hoping that you could tell me where they are working now.”
    Patricia Bledsoe also didn’t like to use contractions.
    I told her the crew had been working at the Episcopalian church that morning, and she checked the address to be sure she knew where that was (there are many, many churches in Lawrenceton, and I am sorry to say there is little racial mixing on Sundays). “But I don’t know about tomorrow,” I said firmly. “I believe my friend said something about street scenes.”
    “So they are not likely to be coming to the library?” she asked. I had the odd feeling that Patricia Bledsoe could see the surprised expression on my face, because she added hastily,
    “That would be so convenient, you see, if he could just come here.”
    “I have no idea what streets they’re going to use,” I told her. “I suppose if they wanted to film at the library they would’ve already asked Sam, either directly or through the City Council.”
    “That’s true,” she said. She sounded quite annoyed that she hadn’t thought of that herself.
    “Yes, thank you,” she said briskly, and I knew that Patricia was regretting she’d called me at all. “I’m sorry I bothered you, just go back to whatever you were doing,” she continued, trying to sound chipper. “Forget I even called.”
    I thought, She wishes .

    To my relief, I spotted a familiar tall form in the parking lot. Robin was included in the dinner invitation. I’d been a little anxious at the idea of being alone with a bunch of people I didn’t know. Furthermore, they’d be people with whom I had nothing in common. It was pleasant to find out I was only four-sixths right.
    Meredith Askew had indeed either lied or been mistaken, because Barrett was standing with the rest beside a rented van. That counterbalanced Robin’s presence. Barrett smirked at me, and I felt weary already. The best I could do was to manage my