Read Online Devil Wind (Sammy Greene Mysteries) by Deborah Shlian, Linda Reid - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Deborah Shlian, Linda Reid
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she’d hidden there had disappeared. Damn.
Sylvie’s jewelry. Most of it was paste, but Sylvie did have a few genuine pieces she’d gotten from some of her favorite clients as gifts. Ana raced into Sylvie’s bedroom, to find it similarly ravaged. Everything, from the bed linens to the clothes in the closet had been tossed onto the carpet. Sylvie’s jewelry box, hidden inside a now open Payless shoe box was missing. Money and jewelry. Shit.
Ana caught the reflection in the mirror and gasped. Sylvie’s computer was smashed into tiny pieces on her desk. Ana spun around and stared at the damage, shocked by the violence of the destruction. This was not the work of a common burglar. Whoever had done this must have felt incredible rage.
A wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. She knew she couldn’t stay in the apartment another minute. Forcing herself to calm down and breathe more slowly, she quickly dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans, and exchanged her designer heels for clean socks and tennis shoes. Money. She needed money. Ana remembered that Sylvie had kept a few dollars of “just-in-case” funds in a special location somewhere in her closet. But where?
Sylvie’s words came back to her. Payless, remember? Of course. The Payless box. Sylvie’d always kept that in the middle of the closet as a joke. Grabbing a sturdy kitchen knife, Ana pushed the box aside to pry up the wooden slats. Slowly, they creaked loose to reveal a small hole where a wad of twenty dollar bills lay wrapped around a thick disk. Ana pocketed the money and frowned as she examined the disk. It was thicker than a typical 3 1/2 inch floppy and had only the label Jazz etched into the plastic. Sylvie had dated a musician recently, so maybe the disk contained her boyfriend’s music. But then why not keep it with her CDs near the stereo? This had to be Sylvie’s Plan B.
The faint sound of a siren far in the distance jarred Ana into action. The police might be on their way to the apartment. They had her ID and address inside the charred purse on Sylvie’s gurney. Ana opened Sylvie’s pristine purse and fished out her roommate’s cell phone and her thin wallet with its license and money. No point in leaving something else for visitors to steal.
She threw Sylvie’s purse on the closet floor, stuffed the wallet, the money, and the disk in one pocket, the phone in another, then ran back to the kitchen to replace the large knife with a smaller one that slid into the waistband of her jeans. The answering machine by the kitchen counter was blinking. Estimating the sirens to still be a few blocks away, Ana pushed the play button. The first two calls were hang ups, followed by a message from Kaye: “Ana, where are you? Call me as soon as you get in. We have to talk.”
Ana erased the voice mail. She was in no mood to talk to anyone just yet. Not Kaye and certainly not the police. It would be daylight in a few hours. She had to get away while she could. Right now she needed to find a safe place to hide and to rest.
As the sirens grew louder, Ana rushed out the door and down the back stairs to the alley behind the building. Through the yards of the houses she passed, she could see the flashing red lights of police cars speeding toward her address. By the time the black-and-whites had arrived at the apartment, Ana was at least ten blocks away, at the neighborhood play area and park. Filled with mothers, nannies, and young children during the day, the playground was deserted after dark, except for a few of Ana’s old homeless friends who sought shelter among the trees. Tonight she would join them.
Only hours before, she and Sylvie had been mingling with the glitterati. And now, as her luck would have it, the glitter had burned away to ashes.
Reed was writing orders for Prescott’s admission to the CCU, enjoying the silence of the doctors’ lounge, when the door squeaked open. He smiled broadly as Michelle shuffled in and parked her five foot nine
Sylvie’s jewelry. Most of it was paste, but Sylvie did have a few genuine pieces she’d gotten from some of her favorite clients as gifts. Ana raced into Sylvie’s bedroom, to find it similarly ravaged. Everything, from the bed linens to the clothes in the closet had been tossed onto the carpet. Sylvie’s jewelry box, hidden inside a now open Payless shoe box was missing. Money and jewelry. Shit.
Ana caught the reflection in the mirror and gasped. Sylvie’s computer was smashed into tiny pieces on her desk. Ana spun around and stared at the damage, shocked by the violence of the destruction. This was not the work of a common burglar. Whoever had done this must have felt incredible rage.
A wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. She knew she couldn’t stay in the apartment another minute. Forcing herself to calm down and breathe more slowly, she quickly dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans, and exchanged her designer heels for clean socks and tennis shoes. Money. She needed money. Ana remembered that Sylvie had kept a few dollars of “just-in-case” funds in a special location somewhere in her closet. But where?
Sylvie’s words came back to her. Payless, remember? Of course. The Payless box. Sylvie’d always kept that in the middle of the closet as a joke. Grabbing a sturdy kitchen knife, Ana pushed the box aside to pry up the wooden slats. Slowly, they creaked loose to reveal a small hole where a wad of twenty dollar bills lay wrapped around a thick disk. Ana pocketed the money and frowned as she examined the disk. It was thicker than a typical 3 1/2 inch floppy and had only the label Jazz etched into the plastic. Sylvie had dated a musician recently, so maybe the disk contained her boyfriend’s music. But then why not keep it with her CDs near the stereo? This had to be Sylvie’s Plan B.
The faint sound of a siren far in the distance jarred Ana into action. The police might be on their way to the apartment. They had her ID and address inside the charred purse on Sylvie’s gurney. Ana opened Sylvie’s pristine purse and fished out her roommate’s cell phone and her thin wallet with its license and money. No point in leaving something else for visitors to steal.
She threw Sylvie’s purse on the closet floor, stuffed the wallet, the money, and the disk in one pocket, the phone in another, then ran back to the kitchen to replace the large knife with a smaller one that slid into the waistband of her jeans. The answering machine by the kitchen counter was blinking. Estimating the sirens to still be a few blocks away, Ana pushed the play button. The first two calls were hang ups, followed by a message from Kaye: “Ana, where are you? Call me as soon as you get in. We have to talk.”
Ana erased the voice mail. She was in no mood to talk to anyone just yet. Not Kaye and certainly not the police. It would be daylight in a few hours. She had to get away while she could. Right now she needed to find a safe place to hide and to rest.
As the sirens grew louder, Ana rushed out the door and down the back stairs to the alley behind the building. Through the yards of the houses she passed, she could see the flashing red lights of police cars speeding toward her address. By the time the black-and-whites had arrived at the apartment, Ana was at least ten blocks away, at the neighborhood play area and park. Filled with mothers, nannies, and young children during the day, the playground was deserted after dark, except for a few of Ana’s old homeless friends who sought shelter among the trees. Tonight she would join them.
Only hours before, she and Sylvie had been mingling with the glitterati. And now, as her luck would have it, the glitter had burned away to ashes.
Reed was writing orders for Prescott’s admission to the CCU, enjoying the silence of the doctors’ lounge, when the door squeaked open. He smiled broadly as Michelle shuffled in and parked her five foot nine
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