Read Online Bones to Pick by Carolyn Haines - Free Book Online Page A

It."
    "I've made my own list of suspects." She reached into the pocket of black slacks that hugged her petite figure, brought out a piece of paper, and handed it to me.
    Her neat handwriting scrolled down the page. "There are eighty-four names." She'd conveniently numbered them.
    "All taken from Quentin's book, and all with plenty of motive to want her dead."
    I put the list on the table. It was overwhelming in a way. Most of the names were high society, too. Not the most cooperative element in a murder investigation. Often people with money and social power felt they were insulated from the law.
    "I've put a red check by the names I think we should investigate first," Tinkie said.
    "A little organizational nut you picked up from Oscar?"
    My teasing was good-natured. Tinkie's mind was often more practical and organized than mine. I sat down with my iced tea and read through the list.
    The entire McGee family was listed with red checks. Aunts, uncles, cousins. "All of them?"
    "They'll all be greatly impacted by the inheritance of the trust," Tinkie pointed out. "Not to mention that they were dissed in print."
    "Lorilee Brewer?" I pointed to another red-checked name.
    "She was at the book signing Saturday. That's opportunity, and the motive is in the book."
    "The name is vaguely familiar. Something unpleasant?"
    "She was behind us at Ole Miss, but word from the sorority sisters is that she was a legendary bitch!" Tinkie swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. "Lorilee had good reason to want Quentin dead. Quentin went straight for the jugular when she printed that Lorilee was sexually desperate."
    "Sexually desperate?"
    Tinkie rolled her eyes. "I don't have all the details, but you can read as well as I can. Look her up in the book, Sarah Booth. See what Quentin wrote."
    'Tinkie, I find it difficult to believe someone would kill over what's printed in a book."
    "Lorilee was at the book signing Saturday afternoon and she stayed overnight at The Gardens and she has a big four-wheel-drive pickup. I think that makes her a superior suspect."
    I thought about the crime scene. By the time I'd arrived, several vehicles had gone in and out, so I couldn't say for certain about tire treads, but Gordon might know more.
    "Lorilee could have stolen Allison's shoes from her room at The Gardens. She could have done the whole thing."
    Tinkie was right. "Is she still in town?"
    "She's staying for the funeral."
    "How did you find that out?" I was curious. Tinkie had her ways, and I was always impressed with them.
    "I called Gertrude Stromm." She smiled sweetly. "From Oscar's office at the bank. She was eager to cooperate with me."
    "You're very bad, Tinkie."
    "I know. I learned it from you."
    Glancing down the list, I saw another name I'd heard before. "Marilyn Jenkins?"
    Tinkie nodded. "If you'd ever take the time to read the book, you'd find that almost every prominent Delta family has been honored byinclusion. Marilyn, too."
    I had a vague memory of tragedy striking Marilyn Jenkins in the last few years, but I couldn't put my mental finger on it. "Didn't something awful happen to her back in the nineties?"
    "Her mother was killed in that freak rock slide in that exclusive neighborhood in
Birmingham
,
Alabama
. She was showing a house or something like that when half a mountain tumbled down on top of her and crushed her flat, but that wasn't how Marilyn got into the book."
    Tinkie wanted me to beg, and I obliged. "What got her in the book?"
    "Quentin dug up the fact that Marilyn had entered into secret negotiations to sell her
Rankin
County
property for a toxic waste landfill. She's ruined in her neighborhood! The gossip is that the neighbors have formed a tomato squad, and whenever they see Marilyn, they pelt her with rotten tomatoes."
    "Good lord, Tinkie. From what you're saying, half the state's in the damn book." I had a sudden thought. "Am I in it?"
    Her look was knowing. "You aren't in the index, Sarah Booth, but if Quentin had spoken