Read Online Blowing Smoke by Barbara Block - Free Book Online

wasn’t looking forward to. After all, how do you tell someone that their fifteen-year-old daughter is stealing money from people? And that was the good news?
    I took my card out of Matt Andrews’s hand, scribbled my cell phone number on the bottom of it, and handed it back to him. “If she comes by, be smart and call me immediately.”
    â€œDon’t worry. Believe me, I will.”
    â€œGood. Because you don’t need the kind of trouble she’s going to cause you.” And I got in my car and took off. Hopefully, I’d scared him enough so he would.
    As I drove along Route 92, I pondered what Calli had told me about Rose Taylor. She was definitely a high-powered lady. The widow of Sanford Taylor, a down-home guy who had been known as one of the powers behind the throne in the New York State Republican Party. A power broker and financier, he’d inherited the family fortune from his dad, Hubbell Taylor, who’d made his money manufacturing office equipment. Sanford had dramatically increased his fortune by strategically aligning himself with certain prominent families that had widespread interests in construction, trucking, waste disposal, and real estate. Rose Taylor was his second wife, his first one having died in an automobile accident.
    Twenty-five years younger than her husband, she’d been a nurse, training that had served her well when her husband had come down with rheumatoid arthritis. He’d remained bedridden for five years before he died at the relatively young age of sixty-five. It was rumored she’d become the brains behind his particular operation, the person in charge. Nothing went through without her say-so.
    Maybe that’s why Sanford had left everything to her. She, in turn, according to Calli, was supposed to look after her children’s needs out of the money in the estate. Then, when she died, they’d inherit what was left over. The kids had outstanding debts all over town that the mother was refusing to honor. Not a good recipe for family harmony, I decided as I lit a cigarette. Not a good recipe at all.
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    Eagerness made palpable, Arthur and Millie Peterson were waiting for me when I pulled into the driveway of their house. Once we were seated in the living room, I told them everything I’d found out about their daughter. I kept my hands folded and my eyes focused somewhere in the middle of the room, because I didn’t want to see their reactions.
    â€œYou’re wrong,” the mother cried when I was done. “Bethany would never do those things. She’s still a baby.”
    I felt as if I’d just shot Bambi.
    â€œI just want her to come home.” She covered her face with her hands. Sobs flew out between her fingers.
    I couldn’t think of anything to say. I studied a piece of pottery and tried not to see her. Her husband put his arms around her and held her close.
    â€œIt’ll be all right,” he murmured. “You’ll see. We’ll get through this.”
    I couldn’t get out of the Petersons’ house soon enough. I hate giving people this kind of news, I wished I was back in Noah’s Ark, taking care of my fish, cleaning out the bird cages, and feeding Zsa Zsa her dog biscuits. Everything is so much simpler there.
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    Like Bethany’s parents, Rose Taylor lived in Cazenovia, but in a ritzier part. Normally, I liked driving through the town. Bordering on Cazenovia Lake, it is one of those quaint summer resorts that turn up in tour guides under the heading of undiscovered American gems. It has its share of bed-and-breakfasts, hotels with colorful faux British names, and shops selling amusing postcards, expensive, imported scented soaps, and candles.
    Until recently a WASP stronghold, although not as conservative or rich as Skaneateles, another small lakeside resort town in our area, it still harbors a sizable contingent of the wealthy, though their numbers are dwindling