Read Online Ellipsis by Stephen Greenleaf - Free Book Online Page B

anything suspicious.”
    Just for fun, I lowered mine as well. “Good.”
    She made sure I wasn’t mocking her, then placed her hand on the other woman’s arm. “This is Meredith Dunne; she owns Dunne and Son Books on Upper Market. She and Chandelier are old friends—Meredith supplies all the books for these parties and there will be two of her staff here as well, sitting behind the table beneath the store banner.”
    Mrs. Dunne and I greeted each other minimally. She was big-boned and big-haired, compact and self-possessed, with a searching gaze that roamed my face so thoroughly it suggested she was writing my unauthorized biography. She was dressed in a chocolate brown pantsuit and toted a purse the size of a carpetbag that I bet contained everything she would need for the rest of the month because that’s how far she planned ahead.
    â€œI wanted Meredith to meet you,” Lark was saying, “because she’s been to all twelve of these launch parties, and if there’s anything out of the ordinary going on, she might be able to spot it.”
    â€œGood,” I said again, and turned my attention to Meredith. “If you see anything remotely suspicious, or even just odd, come find me right away. Don’t try to do anything yourself.”
    â€œFine. I guess.” The words fluttered with worry before she brought them under control. “What do you think is likely to—”
    â€œNothing,” I interrupted with false confidence. “I don’t think anything at all unusual is going to happen this afternoon.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œThere are too many people around, for one. Plus the male of the species will stand out like a Republican at a union rally and this note business seems like a guy thing to me. So relax. Drink lots of wine; sell lots of books.”
    â€œEasy for you to say,” Meredith said, and strolled off toward the table where her assistants were hanging her banner.
    I turned my attention back to Lark McLaren. She had changed to a blue-striped blouse beneath a tailored gray business suit above blockish high heels that added two inches to her height and gave her thighs a provocative curve. She was calm, compelling, and comely. For just a moment, until thoughts of Jill made me shape up, I wished I were twenty years younger.
    â€œWhat other outside elements will be here today?” I asked her. “Other than the fans.”
    â€œWell, there are Jimbo’s people. A couple of guys to handle the heat and lights and chairs. They’re easy to spot—they’re wearing black satin shirts with Jimbo’s in script on the breast. Makes me want to go bowling for some reason.”
    â€œI felt the same way at The Big Lebowski . Who else?”
    She giggled. “I loved that film. The rug that tied the room together.”
    â€œI’ve got one of those myself, as it happens.”
    She looked at me. “I’ll bet you do at that.”
    We exchanged smiles of confederacy. “Who else is here?” I asked.
    â€œThe food people. Red Riding Hood is the caterer we use. In keeping with the literary theme, don’t you know.”
    â€œAre you implying your boss’s books are for children?”
    â€œI most certainly am not.”
    I couldn’t tell if her anger was real or feigned. “You’ve dealt with Red Riding Hood before this?” I asked.
    â€œLet’s see.” She counted fingers. “Four times. They’re very reliable.”
    â€œTheir employees must change pretty often, though.”
    She nodded. “I don’t think serving cheese puffs and cheap Chablis has lots of upside potential.”
    I chuckled once again. “You’re an amusing woman, Ms. McLaren.”
    â€œThank you for noticing. Most men don’t.”
    â€œHow about your boss? Does she go in for witty repartee?”
    â€œNot with me,” Lark said, suddenly somber, then looked at