Read Online Dead Man Falls by Paula Boyd - Free Book Online

tippy-toeing down the steep riverbank for an up-close live report, when I saw a girl with long blond hair standing a few feet behind the van, staring open-mouthed at my car. I groaned. "Kimberlee Fletcher."
    Lucille jerked around in the seat. "Where?"
    I nodded in the general direction of the young newspaper reporter who had written more than one unpleasant article about me, my mother and her private affairs, meaning her relationship with the married dead mayor. Mother had not taken kindly to the tabloid slant nor to the fact that the words "Jolene Jackson said" had appeared in every other paragraph. Specifically, Mother had wanted to shoot her.
    I glanced at the purse. "Forget I said anything. Just stare straight ahead, okay?"
    "Why, would you just look at that!" Lucille said, rapping a long nail on the side window. "The little twit doesn’t look any older than a third grader and we already know she’s not half as smart as one. Just look at her gawking over here at us." Mother jabbed at the buttons on the door, trying to roll the window down, which it would not because I had clicked on the lock switch about the time I recognized Kimberlee. Ditto for the doors. I didn’t figure either one of us needed to be tempted.
    "You stop this car right now, Jolene. I’ve got a thing or three to say to that little snot-nosed brat, printing those lies about me before. Why, the very nerve."
    I stepped on the gas. "Not now, Mother. We’ve got to get out of here."
    She huffed and puffed for a second or two, then wedged herself around in the seat, facing the window, and gave little Kimberlee the finger. With both hands. Vigorously.
    Lovely. Just lovely. "How do you suppose she’ll write that up, Mother? ‘Flipped me off,’ or ‘made vulgar hand gestures’?"
    "She wouldn’t dare," Lucille muttered, apparently considering the possibility. "Besides, she doesn’t know me from Adam. And we’re in your car anyway."
    "Yes, we are. The dark blue Tahoe with Colorado plates. Oh, no, wait, I believe her exact written description that appeared on page one was ‘a nondescript dark blue Tahoe with Colorado plates.’ And let’s not forget that she’s Leroy Harper’s cousin and wannabe love interest. I’m sure they never discussed us at all and she's totally clueless as to who just insulted her."
    Lucille glanced back around to see if Kimberlee was still standing there. She was, notebook clutched to her chest and mouth agape. "Well, shit," Mother muttered. "You really think she’s stupid enough to print something silly like that?"
    Certain of it, in fact. "I’m sure the hamster wheel in her head is spinning furiously as we speak."
    Mother thought on that a second then said, "Well, then, I think you ought to write something up that tells our side of the story. You do still write stories, don’t you?"
    Since I’m not working at a "real" job and I haven’t died of starvation, the obvious answer is yes. These little details of my "other" life are of little concern to Mother dearest, however. That I freelance for a number of newspapers and magazines around the country are not the stuff of which Dairy Queen moments are made.
    "Sorry, Mother, but I’m not writing an article explaining why both your middle fingers were snapping up and down in the car window like twin pistons. And you wouldn’t like it if I did."
    "Hmmph," she snorted. "Well, then, I guess there’s nothing for it then but to leave. I’ll think of something to do about this later. Now, hurry up and get us out of here."
    I did.
    The Redwater police had a barricade at the entrance, but Jerry was waiting and got us through with a wave. He led the way in his Bowman County Sheriff’s rig and a fully marked and lighted Redwater Falls patrol car followed us.
    There was unlikely to be a threat with that kind of entourage, but something had Lucille worried. I knew this because she wasn’t saying anything, no complaints or criticisms of my driving, nothing. In fact, we were halfway