Read Online Bernadine Fagan - Nora Lassiter 01 - Murder by the Old Maine Stream by Bernadine Fagan - Free Book Online
Authors: Bernadine Fagan
Tags: Mystery: Cozy - Maine
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patch of poison ivy.
Groping for Mary Fran’s map on the passenger seat, I drove over the bridge and pulled to the side of the road. I hoped no one I knew would drive by and see me. I was a mess. My hair. My clothes. I smelled of dust and sour milk, and if I didn’t find a toilet soon …
It was five minutes to four. I had to be at the lawyer’s for the reading of the will in five minutes. That wasn’t going to happen. I hated being late.
From the X that was Mary Fran’s house, I ran my pinky along the chicken-scrawl route that led to Main Street in town. It veered to the right after the bridge. Well, I’d done that. Then a quick left. Yes, I’d gone left. Or was that left made by the smudge on the paper? Which way had I gone when I was coming? Right. No, left. No, maybe right was right.
I needed a GPS.
An SUV with a red blinking light on top pulled along side of me. The flutter of my foolish heart was matched only by my rising panic. I needed a hat, or even better, a paper bag to cover my head. No, I needed not to be here. Instead of wildly trying to adjust my appearance, I took the high road and acted as if nothing was amiss.
“Parked to enjoy the wicked good view of Hunter’s Creek?” Nick asked.
I looked at him and smiled as if my hair stuck up this way every day. His expression was hard to read. And that was because he had no expression. He just stared. God, he was cute. Too bad I’d sworn off men for the rest of my natural life.
“I’m temporarily lost,” I said.
“As long as it’s only temporary.”
“Could you point me toward town?”
“You in trench-coat mode?”
“Have trench coat, will travel. I’ve just completed today’s mission.”
“One would think most detectives would have checked directions before going on assignment.”
“I got there.”
“I can see that.” His gaze traveled to my hair. “Rough time?”
“Not at all,” I said with a straight face.
“Did someone whack you in the forehead?”
I considered lying.
“No. I hit my head on the floor when I sneezed.”
He nodded as if he understood, but I recognized confusion when I saw it.
Just then the Toreador March sounded, I saw that my friend Lori in New York was calling, and I answered.
“Hi. I’ve been meaning to get back to you, but I’ve been busy. Sorry. Can’t talk now either.”
“You coming home today?” Lori asked.
I glanced at Nick who made no pretense of not listening. “Maybe tonight, Lori. Maybe not until tomorrow. Depends. But I have to—”
“On what’s in the will?”
“I’m … involved here.”
“Uh-oh. Dare I ask in what?” Then she gasped. “Or is that the wrong question? Nora, have you met someone? This soon? I wouldn’t put it passed you. Guys are drawn to you. You have all the luck. I think—”
“No. Of course not.” I hesitated, unwilling to give Nick a clue about this conversation.
“Is someone else there?” she said finally.
“Yes.”
“Is he cute?”
I didn’t reply.
“I’m guessing it’s a he. Am I correct?”
I had to get off the phone. “You are.”
“About the cute part? Is that an affirmative?”
“Yes. Now, I gotta hang—”
“Damn. I knew it when I didn’t hear from you.”
“You are dead wrong, Lori. I’ve just been busy.”
“Doing?”
“Can I call you back?”
“You’d damn well better. I want to hear everything you’ve been up to in the hinterlands. But before you hang, you’d better give me a fax number or a computer address, somewhere I can send this résumé. Pronto.”
“Hold on.” I lowered the phone. “Do you have a fax at your office?”
“Ay-uh. Fax machines, computers, indoor plumbing. All the latest. We’re very modern.”
I grinned at him. “Could I have someone fax me something there?”
He didn’t answer, just reached for something below window level, then leaned over and passed me a card. “Number’s on here. Can’t guarantee it’ll be kept private.”
“Doesn’t have to be.
Groping for Mary Fran’s map on the passenger seat, I drove over the bridge and pulled to the side of the road. I hoped no one I knew would drive by and see me. I was a mess. My hair. My clothes. I smelled of dust and sour milk, and if I didn’t find a toilet soon …
It was five minutes to four. I had to be at the lawyer’s for the reading of the will in five minutes. That wasn’t going to happen. I hated being late.
From the X that was Mary Fran’s house, I ran my pinky along the chicken-scrawl route that led to Main Street in town. It veered to the right after the bridge. Well, I’d done that. Then a quick left. Yes, I’d gone left. Or was that left made by the smudge on the paper? Which way had I gone when I was coming? Right. No, left. No, maybe right was right.
I needed a GPS.
An SUV with a red blinking light on top pulled along side of me. The flutter of my foolish heart was matched only by my rising panic. I needed a hat, or even better, a paper bag to cover my head. No, I needed not to be here. Instead of wildly trying to adjust my appearance, I took the high road and acted as if nothing was amiss.
“Parked to enjoy the wicked good view of Hunter’s Creek?” Nick asked.
I looked at him and smiled as if my hair stuck up this way every day. His expression was hard to read. And that was because he had no expression. He just stared. God, he was cute. Too bad I’d sworn off men for the rest of my natural life.
“I’m temporarily lost,” I said.
“As long as it’s only temporary.”
“Could you point me toward town?”
“You in trench-coat mode?”
“Have trench coat, will travel. I’ve just completed today’s mission.”
“One would think most detectives would have checked directions before going on assignment.”
“I got there.”
“I can see that.” His gaze traveled to my hair. “Rough time?”
“Not at all,” I said with a straight face.
“Did someone whack you in the forehead?”
I considered lying.
“No. I hit my head on the floor when I sneezed.”
He nodded as if he understood, but I recognized confusion when I saw it.
Just then the Toreador March sounded, I saw that my friend Lori in New York was calling, and I answered.
“Hi. I’ve been meaning to get back to you, but I’ve been busy. Sorry. Can’t talk now either.”
“You coming home today?” Lori asked.
I glanced at Nick who made no pretense of not listening. “Maybe tonight, Lori. Maybe not until tomorrow. Depends. But I have to—”
“On what’s in the will?”
“I’m … involved here.”
“Uh-oh. Dare I ask in what?” Then she gasped. “Or is that the wrong question? Nora, have you met someone? This soon? I wouldn’t put it passed you. Guys are drawn to you. You have all the luck. I think—”
“No. Of course not.” I hesitated, unwilling to give Nick a clue about this conversation.
“Is someone else there?” she said finally.
“Yes.”
“Is he cute?”
I didn’t reply.
“I’m guessing it’s a he. Am I correct?”
I had to get off the phone. “You are.”
“About the cute part? Is that an affirmative?”
“Yes. Now, I gotta hang—”
“Damn. I knew it when I didn’t hear from you.”
“You are dead wrong, Lori. I’ve just been busy.”
“Doing?”
“Can I call you back?”
“You’d damn well better. I want to hear everything you’ve been up to in the hinterlands. But before you hang, you’d better give me a fax number or a computer address, somewhere I can send this résumé. Pronto.”
“Hold on.” I lowered the phone. “Do you have a fax at your office?”
“Ay-uh. Fax machines, computers, indoor plumbing. All the latest. We’re very modern.”
I grinned at him. “Could I have someone fax me something there?”
He didn’t answer, just reached for something below window level, then leaned over and passed me a card. “Number’s on here. Can’t guarantee it’ll be kept private.”
“Doesn’t have to be.
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