Read Online Dial Me for Murder by Amanda Matetsky - Free Book Online
Authors: Amanda Matetsky
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service, she could find herself in deep doo-doo.
“We seem to have each other over a barrel,” she said, smiling.
“Yes, but you have a bit more to lose than I do. You could lose your fortune and your freedom. All I stand to lose is a story.”
“Or your life,” she said.
She wasn’t smiling anymore. But she wasn’t threatening me, either. The soft tone of concern in her voice and the anxious expression on her face made the motive for her dreadful warning clear: She was simply urging me to find the murderer as fast as I could, and cautioning me to be careful while I was at it.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Our dirty deal was done, and Sabrina was now as protective of me as she was of her other employees. I had—in a crazy, roundabout kind of way—become one of her girls.
“OKAY, TIME’S UP, SABRINA!” I SAID, AFTER devouring two more mouthfuls of mousse. “If you want me to turn on the speed, you’ve got to do the same. I want the name of the man you sent Virginia to meet last Monday night, plus the names of the other clients you regularly fixed her up with. I need to know which of your girls were her closest friends, and I want a list of their addresses and phone numbers. And you’d better make it fast,” I added, giving her a taste of her own aggressive medicine. “I’ve got to get back to the office.” (That, by the way, was a gross understatement. My lunch hour had ended more than an hour ago. I was so late it was ludicrous.)
Sabrina stood up and tossed her napkin on the table. “I’ve already made you a list,” she said. (Would she always be one step ahead of me?) “It’s in the library. Come with me and I’ll give it to you.” She turned and headed for the door, obviously expecting me to follow.
I was on my feet in a flash. I hadn’t finished my dessert, but I was hungry for proof, not pudding. Scrambling to catch up, I trailed Sabrina out of the dining room, across the large tiled entry, down the hall to the library, and across the plush Oriental rug to her desk. Her pace was fast, her posture was perfect, and her limp was barely noticeable.
Sabrina took two sheets of lavender stationery from the top drawer of her desk and held them close to her chest. “You must guard this list with your life, Paige. Don’t let anyone else see it. If it should get into the wrong hands—”
“Don’t worry!” I broke in, panting like an overheated poodle. “I promise you nobody will handle it but me!” It was all I could do not to pounce onto the top of her desk and tear the list away with my teeth.
“Okay, then,” Sabrina said, folding the list up like a letter and sticking it into a lavender envelope. She licked the flap of the envelope and sealed it tight. “Virginia’s three primary patrons are listed on the first page, and her two closest girlfriends on the other. I’ve given you their names, addresses, phone numbers, occupations, and any other biographical facts I have on file. I’ve written down Virginia’s information, too. That should be more than enough to get you started.”
I shot a crazed glance at the sealed envelope, then aimed a frantic gaze at Sabrina’s face. “But which one of these men was Virginia with the night of the murder?” I begged. If she doesn’t give me the answer this minute, I’ll have to kill myself!
Sabrina cast her eyes down to the floor. “I don’t know,” she said, with a sad shrug of her shoulders.
“What do you mean?” I shrieked. “Didn’t you make the appointment for her?”
“Yes, but I made two appointments for her that night. One at eight, and another one at eleven. The papers didn’t say what time she was killed, so I don’t know which—if either—client she was with.”
Aaargh! There went my hopes for cracking the case with one blow. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Okay,” I said, quickly pulling myself together. (I didn’t have time to kill myself.) “So which one was scheduled for
“We seem to have each other over a barrel,” she said, smiling.
“Yes, but you have a bit more to lose than I do. You could lose your fortune and your freedom. All I stand to lose is a story.”
“Or your life,” she said.
She wasn’t smiling anymore. But she wasn’t threatening me, either. The soft tone of concern in her voice and the anxious expression on her face made the motive for her dreadful warning clear: She was simply urging me to find the murderer as fast as I could, and cautioning me to be careful while I was at it.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Our dirty deal was done, and Sabrina was now as protective of me as she was of her other employees. I had—in a crazy, roundabout kind of way—become one of her girls.
“OKAY, TIME’S UP, SABRINA!” I SAID, AFTER devouring two more mouthfuls of mousse. “If you want me to turn on the speed, you’ve got to do the same. I want the name of the man you sent Virginia to meet last Monday night, plus the names of the other clients you regularly fixed her up with. I need to know which of your girls were her closest friends, and I want a list of their addresses and phone numbers. And you’d better make it fast,” I added, giving her a taste of her own aggressive medicine. “I’ve got to get back to the office.” (That, by the way, was a gross understatement. My lunch hour had ended more than an hour ago. I was so late it was ludicrous.)
Sabrina stood up and tossed her napkin on the table. “I’ve already made you a list,” she said. (Would she always be one step ahead of me?) “It’s in the library. Come with me and I’ll give it to you.” She turned and headed for the door, obviously expecting me to follow.
I was on my feet in a flash. I hadn’t finished my dessert, but I was hungry for proof, not pudding. Scrambling to catch up, I trailed Sabrina out of the dining room, across the large tiled entry, down the hall to the library, and across the plush Oriental rug to her desk. Her pace was fast, her posture was perfect, and her limp was barely noticeable.
Sabrina took two sheets of lavender stationery from the top drawer of her desk and held them close to her chest. “You must guard this list with your life, Paige. Don’t let anyone else see it. If it should get into the wrong hands—”
“Don’t worry!” I broke in, panting like an overheated poodle. “I promise you nobody will handle it but me!” It was all I could do not to pounce onto the top of her desk and tear the list away with my teeth.
“Okay, then,” Sabrina said, folding the list up like a letter and sticking it into a lavender envelope. She licked the flap of the envelope and sealed it tight. “Virginia’s three primary patrons are listed on the first page, and her two closest girlfriends on the other. I’ve given you their names, addresses, phone numbers, occupations, and any other biographical facts I have on file. I’ve written down Virginia’s information, too. That should be more than enough to get you started.”
I shot a crazed glance at the sealed envelope, then aimed a frantic gaze at Sabrina’s face. “But which one of these men was Virginia with the night of the murder?” I begged. If she doesn’t give me the answer this minute, I’ll have to kill myself!
Sabrina cast her eyes down to the floor. “I don’t know,” she said, with a sad shrug of her shoulders.
“What do you mean?” I shrieked. “Didn’t you make the appointment for her?”
“Yes, but I made two appointments for her that night. One at eight, and another one at eleven. The papers didn’t say what time she was killed, so I don’t know which—if either—client she was with.”
Aaargh! There went my hopes for cracking the case with one blow. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Okay,” I said, quickly pulling myself together. (I didn’t have time to kill myself.) “So which one was scheduled for
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