Read Online Esprit de Corpse by Gina X. Grant - Free Book Online Page B

straightened her suit jacket as best he could with bound hands. He turned his daughter’s head left, then right, no doubt hoping they’d catch her good side.
    Cameras and camera phones flashed and clicked. All over the parking lot, recording devices switched on.
    “My name is Shannon Iver and I. Am. Innocent!”
    As one, the crowd emitted a gasp. Those who preferred recording methods whose batteries didn’t fail scratched frantically with pen and pencil.
    Conrad’s gaze jumped from reporter to reporter, daring them to challenge him. His expression broadcast arrogance and defiance. Then a light seemed to come on over his head, despite the broken light fixture he stood beneath. One feature at a time, his face crumpled in despair. Well, Shannon’s face, to be exact.
    For one moment, I hoped he might be genuinely sorry, sincerely filled with grief. Then the same light came on over my head. Mr. Manipulative had realized that in order to win sympathy, a young woman must present herself differently than a successful middle-aged man.
    We’ve come a short way, baby.
    Conrad raised his head again, a tear trickling down one cheek, just as he’d done when giving my crappy memorial speech that day. His chin trembled and now he leaned on Detective Leo for support.
    Oh, brother.
    “It . . .” He sobbed once, then faked inner resolve and started over. “It wasn’t me who clubbed Kirsty to death.”
    “One steamboat. Two steamboats.” I counted the beats in my head. He’d taught me a good, dramatic pause must last at least five seconds. “Four steamboats and go!”
    Right on cue, Conrad managed to compose himself enough to continue. “Sadly, when Kirsty d’Arc, my best friend, awoke suddenly from her coma, she became disoriented and attacked me. My father, noble, caring man that he was, leapt to my defense. Using the only tool at hand, he was forced to incapacitate poor, delusional Kirsty with the stapler.”
    What? That’s not how it happened. He’d attacked me!
    What a load of bull-skeg. How dare he? I was about ready to try scything him again when I realized this sympathy thing would work in our favor. Our immediate goal was to get Shannon off the charge of murder, so the more sympathy he gained for her, the better.
    Conrad appeared to be waiting for something. He tapped one high heel on the pavement impatiently, keeping his head down.
    “Ms. Iver, why was there a stapler in a long-term care room?”
    His head shot up. This must have been the question he’d been waiting for.
    “I visited Kirsty often, finding solace in her quiet company. I would bring office work with me to make productive use of the time I spent at her bedside. The doctors say that sometimes coma victims can hear what goes on around them, so I’d read her articles and reports to keep her up to date for when she returned to us.”
    A murmur of approval traveled through the reporters.
    Conrad made a show of using his cuffed hands to wipe a tear from his eye before continuing. “When he realized his blow had accidently ended her life, my father died of grief and guilt and the strain of it all.” By now her voice was cracking in strategic places.
    Conrad turned to Detective Leo. “You can charge him posthumously if you must,” he sobbed, still speaking loudly and clearly enough to be heard and recorded across the parking lot. “But it would be a waste of all our hard-earned tax dollars. And put an unnecessary burden on our overworked law-enforcement officials and court system. I thank you all for coming out this evening to hear the truth about the accidental death of Kirsty d’Arc.”
    I was so blown away by Conrad’s absurd retelling of my death story that I couldn’t even process my feelings. A survey of the news teams showed people hurriedly adding their own tags to their video and audio recordings, or hastily texting or phoning in their notes.
    I glanced at Dante to see if I could determine his reaction. The blood drained from his face as