Read Online Dolled Up to Die by Lorena McCourtney - Free Book Online
Authors: Lorena McCourtney
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embarrassing conversation. She just turned and thundered for the door. Head down, she thunked head-on into the chest of a man just entering.
He grabbed her by the arms. “What’s going on?”
In her distracted state, all that registered was that he was dark-haired, big, and muscular, with a grip that felt like iron bands on her arms.
“N-nothing.” She broke away from his hands, almost had another collision with the high handlebars of a motorcycle parked at the curb, and dashed across the street to her car without looking back. Tires screeched as a driver braked to avoid hitting her, then blasted his horn at her.
Finally, in her car, she put her head against the wheel and groaned. She’d just earned what every budding PI needed in her resume. An official pervert designation.
And she still didn’t know if the doll had Jo-Jo’s identifying initials sewn on the body.
Uncle Joe was again reading the newspaper when Cate got back to the house. Her face still felt warm, embarrassment like a hot cloud enveloping her. Why hadn’t she simplymade polite conversation and asked where the doll had come from rather than peering under the skirt? Even if she felt a definite antagonism toward husband-stealing Kim, she still didn’t like having the woman’s mother think she was some groping-hands pervert.
“Heads may roll,” Uncle Joe remarked. For a moment Cate felt as if “Pervert” must be branded on her forehead, and it was her head soon to roll. But then he handed her the newspaper he’d been reading. “Take a look.”
Ed Kieferson had made the front page again. It was not a release of official information but was instead information the reporter had acquired from “an anonymous source close to the investigation.”
The article said that Ed Kieferson’s death was now being investigated as a homicide. Shots fired within the house had come from the gun beside his body, but the fatal shot into his forehead had been fired from a different gun. The handgun beside Kieferson’s body was registered to him, and he had recently acquired a permit to carry a concealed weapon. The gun from which the fatal shot had been fired had not yet been located. Authorities were still trying to determine why he was at the ex-wife’s house and how he had gotten there. His Jaguar had been found in the parking lot at Mr. K’s restaurant. The police had not yet made an arrest, but they were investigating “persons of interest” in the case. A photo of Jo-Jo’s house accompanied the article.
Cate figured that heads would indeed roll if the department figured out who had supplied this unauthorized information.
The article in no way targeted Jo-Jo as a suspect, and yet that possibility ran through it like an ominous undercurrent.
“I know things look bad for Jo-Jo, but I just can’t believe she killed Eddie. She seemed really broken up when she saw his body. And with him dead, she won’t get any more alimony.”That seemed a little lame as proof of innocence, but all Cate could come up with to bolster Jo-Jo’s innocence was, “She has a cat and a pet donkey.”
“Very admirable, I’m sure. Although the value of their testimony in court may be questionable,” Joe observed.
True.
“Look, just because she called you doesn’t mean she’s innocent,” Uncle Joe warned. “I’ve had clients tell me stories imaginative enough to top the bestseller lists.”
Cate had heard a few imaginative stories even in her short time as an assistant PI.
“Try this on for size,” he said. “Jo-Jo is a woman scorned, and everyone knows how that can turn even a sweet woman into a flaming maniac. She’s out for vengeance. She lures Eddie to accompany her to the house in her car—”
“It’s an old white van,” Cate scoffed. “Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead in it.”
“Well, he wasn’t, was he?” Uncle Joe pointed out. “Now, once they’re inside the house, he gets suspicious and pulls his own gun. But she shoots him in the
He grabbed her by the arms. “What’s going on?”
In her distracted state, all that registered was that he was dark-haired, big, and muscular, with a grip that felt like iron bands on her arms.
“N-nothing.” She broke away from his hands, almost had another collision with the high handlebars of a motorcycle parked at the curb, and dashed across the street to her car without looking back. Tires screeched as a driver braked to avoid hitting her, then blasted his horn at her.
Finally, in her car, she put her head against the wheel and groaned. She’d just earned what every budding PI needed in her resume. An official pervert designation.
And she still didn’t know if the doll had Jo-Jo’s identifying initials sewn on the body.
Uncle Joe was again reading the newspaper when Cate got back to the house. Her face still felt warm, embarrassment like a hot cloud enveloping her. Why hadn’t she simplymade polite conversation and asked where the doll had come from rather than peering under the skirt? Even if she felt a definite antagonism toward husband-stealing Kim, she still didn’t like having the woman’s mother think she was some groping-hands pervert.
“Heads may roll,” Uncle Joe remarked. For a moment Cate felt as if “Pervert” must be branded on her forehead, and it was her head soon to roll. But then he handed her the newspaper he’d been reading. “Take a look.”
Ed Kieferson had made the front page again. It was not a release of official information but was instead information the reporter had acquired from “an anonymous source close to the investigation.”
The article said that Ed Kieferson’s death was now being investigated as a homicide. Shots fired within the house had come from the gun beside his body, but the fatal shot into his forehead had been fired from a different gun. The handgun beside Kieferson’s body was registered to him, and he had recently acquired a permit to carry a concealed weapon. The gun from which the fatal shot had been fired had not yet been located. Authorities were still trying to determine why he was at the ex-wife’s house and how he had gotten there. His Jaguar had been found in the parking lot at Mr. K’s restaurant. The police had not yet made an arrest, but they were investigating “persons of interest” in the case. A photo of Jo-Jo’s house accompanied the article.
Cate figured that heads would indeed roll if the department figured out who had supplied this unauthorized information.
The article in no way targeted Jo-Jo as a suspect, and yet that possibility ran through it like an ominous undercurrent.
“I know things look bad for Jo-Jo, but I just can’t believe she killed Eddie. She seemed really broken up when she saw his body. And with him dead, she won’t get any more alimony.”That seemed a little lame as proof of innocence, but all Cate could come up with to bolster Jo-Jo’s innocence was, “She has a cat and a pet donkey.”
“Very admirable, I’m sure. Although the value of their testimony in court may be questionable,” Joe observed.
True.
“Look, just because she called you doesn’t mean she’s innocent,” Uncle Joe warned. “I’ve had clients tell me stories imaginative enough to top the bestseller lists.”
Cate had heard a few imaginative stories even in her short time as an assistant PI.
“Try this on for size,” he said. “Jo-Jo is a woman scorned, and everyone knows how that can turn even a sweet woman into a flaming maniac. She’s out for vengeance. She lures Eddie to accompany her to the house in her car—”
“It’s an old white van,” Cate scoffed. “Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead in it.”
“Well, he wasn’t, was he?” Uncle Joe pointed out. “Now, once they’re inside the house, he gets suspicious and pulls his own gun. But she shoots him in the
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