Read Online Drumsticks by Charlotte Carter - Free Book Online Page B

tonight.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” I said. “They don’t stay where they’re not wanted.”
    â€œSo what do you think it means?” she asked.
    â€œWhat? Leman? I have no idea what he’s going to say tonight.”
    â€œNot that, fool. I mean the book. From where your father works. What was it doing in that woman’s apartment?”
    â€œDamn if I know.”
    That was putting it mildly. I had been in the grip of inchoate fear ever since I laid eyes on the thing. No clue why Ida would have had it. There was probably a very sensible explanation—she had some smart-as-a-whip grandchild, or niece or nephew, who attended that brat academy, and the fact that my father ran the place was sheer coincidence. That much wasn’t so hard to swallow. But why was the thing at the bottom of her sewing basket? Hidden. That had to mean something.
    I had not only broken into Ida Williams’s apartment, I had removed what might turn out to be evidence from it. Before Justin and I closed up the place, I grabbed the yearbook. I had no idea at all how my father fit into things; I just knew I couldn’t leave that book there. I had my problems with Daddy, but the old blood tie was still there.
    No blood ties with Ida. But that didn’t stop me from stuffing the most recent photograph of her and—what should I call him—Mr. Miller, her would-be stage partner, inside the book’s back cover and taking that, too.
    When it all came out, Leman Sweet was going to crucify me unless someone stayed his hand. I looked over at Aubrey’s perfect frame. Lord, now I was pimping my best friend.
    â€œYou remember I told you once about reading a story in the newspaper, Aubrey? While I was in Paris. Remember, I said I read about a woman getting murdered. I had never heard of her or anybody involved in the killing—but somehow I knew she was going to have some kind of connection to my life.”
    â€œYeah, and she did. In the worst kind of way.”
    â€œRight. Well, that’s what it felt like when I saw the yearbook. As if my pop was part of this thing with Ida. Or part of those fucking dolls—or something. I mean, those two things—a high school yearbook and an old folder with a couple of photos and a newspaper ad—they were together in the basket. And, I don’t know—I just don’t know. But it freaked me out.”
    â€œYou starting to sound as stupid as Justin. He’s always crossing his toes or wearing some special ring for good luck or some other foolishness. Ask me, you both crazy.”
    I shrugged, embarrassed, unable to mount a counterargument. It still amazed me how easily I had bought into the whole myth of the dolls and their special powers, as Ida had put it. I had never thought of myself as particularly superstitious. A believer in fate, yes. But not a slave to superstition.
    Aubrey went in to dress then. I had time to ponder the other question of the night: What was Leman going to tell me? I was betting that the police had by now identified Ida, and probably found out where she lived. A shiver went through me at the thought that Justin and I might have been caught in that apartment, that the cops might have arrived at her place, realized that someone was inside, and announced themselves in their own special way—with guns blazing.
    The intercom buzzer sounded.
    Aubrey called from her bedroom at the far end of the hall, “That’s gotta be Numb Nuts. Get it, Nan, will you?”
    I did. “Sergeant Sweet to see you,” the doorman announced.
    â€œLet him up,” I responded.
    Yeah, let him up. Showtime.
    â€œHiya, Leman,” I greeted him.
    He nodded at me, friendly enough. I guess I was getting away with calling him by his so-called Christian name.
    â€œY’all ain’t busy, are you?” he asked, scanning the room.
    â€œNo problem.”
    I led him into the living room and saw him to a seat. I