Read Online Bernadine Fagan - Nora Lassiter 02 - Murder in the Maine Woods by Bernadine Fagan - Free Book Online
Authors: Bernadine Fagan
Ads: Link
appearances, I’d have to say that Nick’s mother was my exact opposite. If I had to guess, I’d say she was not acquainted with my friends Revlon and Almay, and considered L’Oreal an abomination.
Arianna flicked a few errant gray strands that escaped her waist-length braid. Dressed in well-worn jeans and an orange wool sweater that she probably knitted herself, after spinning the yarn, that is, she struck me as a woman at home in this rustic environment, definitely determined to leave a small footprint on the planet. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she churned her own butter.
“You sure had a time of it with those dogs. It’s fortunate we came along when we did.” She laughed lightly.
“I’m not an animal person.”
With that announcement, I yanked the red bra out of my pocket, an action I regretted immediately, and will definitely examine in a saner moment. “Because I’m allergic to most of them,” I explained quickly. “I couldn’t find a filtering mask, so I grabbed this.”
Both gray brows shot up, laddering her semi-smooth forehead. “How resourceful.”
Was resourceful her euphemism for stupid? The woman must be glad I was not a permanent resident, not able to get involved with her son. Possibly procreate in her family tree.
I stuffed the bra back in my pocket, correction, her pocket. “Nick gave me these clothes. Are they yours?”
“Some old things I’m donating to the clothing drive at church. You’re welcome to them.”
“Thank you. They came in handy.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Nora. First, from women in my weaving group, then in the local paper when you helped nab that killer. In the short time you’ve been in Silver Stream, you’ve made your presence felt. You’ve got quite a reputation as a detective.”
She put no emphasis on the last word, which made me wonder whether she knew the truth about my detective status. Maybe not. I was wise enough not to ask.
“Thank you. Just luck,” I said modestly.
“I doubt that. You were the talk of the town for weeks.” She glanced at my hand. “Your finger is healing well, the one you broke apprehending that awful woman?”
Even though I had no reason I could name, I had the feeling she didn’t like me. She spoke kindly and she smiled what seemed like a sincere smile. I guess I’m a rush-to-judgment kind of woman. For certain, I’d never make a good juror.
“Yes. Fine. Thank you. It was a clean break.” I shifted the clothes bag and wiggled my finger.
Then I noticed a computer in the back seat.
“Nick, is that Buster’s computer?”
At his nod, I opened the back door, braced my knee on the seat, and reached over. “I need to see this.”
In a quick, spare move, he opened the opposite door, leaned in and pressed a proprietary hand on the small tower. “No. It’ll be locked in the evidence room until a tech guy comes to check it out.”
“Forget him. I’ll check it out now.” I reached over.
He leaned in farther, eye level with me. “Thanks for the offer, but no can do.”
My hand landed next to his. “That guy will look at it days from now. I could crack this computer today and maybe find something that might lead us to the killer.”
Us? he mouthed, grinning, his brows shooting beneath the unruly wave of dark hair that angled across his handsome forehead.
“It’s all about the chain of evidence,” he explained with exaggerated patience. “If not for that, you’d be the first person I’d call.”
I sensed Arianna stiffen, or maybe she just shifted slightly while continuing to face forward and maintain her fake neutrality pose. I allowed myself a quick look. Nothing. Nick seemed to pay no attention to her. Instead, he looked down at our hands, eased his over mine, and looked back at me with such intensity that my entire body flooded with warmth, as if he had touched me intimately.
I stared back at him, held by his gaze more than his hand. Everything in me was drawn to him. My breath
Arianna flicked a few errant gray strands that escaped her waist-length braid. Dressed in well-worn jeans and an orange wool sweater that she probably knitted herself, after spinning the yarn, that is, she struck me as a woman at home in this rustic environment, definitely determined to leave a small footprint on the planet. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she churned her own butter.
“You sure had a time of it with those dogs. It’s fortunate we came along when we did.” She laughed lightly.
“I’m not an animal person.”
With that announcement, I yanked the red bra out of my pocket, an action I regretted immediately, and will definitely examine in a saner moment. “Because I’m allergic to most of them,” I explained quickly. “I couldn’t find a filtering mask, so I grabbed this.”
Both gray brows shot up, laddering her semi-smooth forehead. “How resourceful.”
Was resourceful her euphemism for stupid? The woman must be glad I was not a permanent resident, not able to get involved with her son. Possibly procreate in her family tree.
I stuffed the bra back in my pocket, correction, her pocket. “Nick gave me these clothes. Are they yours?”
“Some old things I’m donating to the clothing drive at church. You’re welcome to them.”
“Thank you. They came in handy.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Nora. First, from women in my weaving group, then in the local paper when you helped nab that killer. In the short time you’ve been in Silver Stream, you’ve made your presence felt. You’ve got quite a reputation as a detective.”
She put no emphasis on the last word, which made me wonder whether she knew the truth about my detective status. Maybe not. I was wise enough not to ask.
“Thank you. Just luck,” I said modestly.
“I doubt that. You were the talk of the town for weeks.” She glanced at my hand. “Your finger is healing well, the one you broke apprehending that awful woman?”
Even though I had no reason I could name, I had the feeling she didn’t like me. She spoke kindly and she smiled what seemed like a sincere smile. I guess I’m a rush-to-judgment kind of woman. For certain, I’d never make a good juror.
“Yes. Fine. Thank you. It was a clean break.” I shifted the clothes bag and wiggled my finger.
Then I noticed a computer in the back seat.
“Nick, is that Buster’s computer?”
At his nod, I opened the back door, braced my knee on the seat, and reached over. “I need to see this.”
In a quick, spare move, he opened the opposite door, leaned in and pressed a proprietary hand on the small tower. “No. It’ll be locked in the evidence room until a tech guy comes to check it out.”
“Forget him. I’ll check it out now.” I reached over.
He leaned in farther, eye level with me. “Thanks for the offer, but no can do.”
My hand landed next to his. “That guy will look at it days from now. I could crack this computer today and maybe find something that might lead us to the killer.”
Us? he mouthed, grinning, his brows shooting beneath the unruly wave of dark hair that angled across his handsome forehead.
“It’s all about the chain of evidence,” he explained with exaggerated patience. “If not for that, you’d be the first person I’d call.”
I sensed Arianna stiffen, or maybe she just shifted slightly while continuing to face forward and maintain her fake neutrality pose. I allowed myself a quick look. Nothing. Nick seemed to pay no attention to her. Instead, he looked down at our hands, eased his over mine, and looked back at me with such intensity that my entire body flooded with warmth, as if he had touched me intimately.
I stared back at him, held by his gaze more than his hand. Everything in me was drawn to him. My breath
Similar Books
