Read Online Full Frontal Murder by Barbara Paul - Free Book Online

moved in here a matter of hours ago. Alex and I haven’t had time to childproof the place yet. We’ll work something else out.”
    She was just locking the drawer again when Bobby came bursting into the room, waving a piece of yellow construction paper. “Cow!”
    â€œLet me see.” Marian took the paper. Bobby had used a purple crayon to draw his cow; Gelett Burgess would have been pleased. The cow was recognizably a cow, even though the udder had nine teats. Marian wasn’t sure, but she thought the drawing was unusually detailed for the work of a four-year-old; perhaps the little boy had inherited his mother’s talent. “Bobby,” she said, “that is just about the best cow I have ever seen.”
    He grinned and hugged himself.
    Marian nodded. “It’s a wonderful cow. You take good care of this drawing.” She held the paper out to him.
    Bobby wouldn’t take it. “It’s for you!”
    She felt flattered. “You’re giving it to me? To keep?”
    â€œYes!” He was jumping up and down. “To keep!”
    Marian hugged the little boy and thanked him. “I’m going to put this up in my office. A lot of people will see it.”
    â€œThere you go, Bobby,” his mother said with a smile. “Your first exhibition.”
    Marian said good-bye. “I hope you’ll do what I asked, Mrs. Galloway. Try to think of people you know who need money or might act out of malice.” She started up the white staircase.
    â€œIt would be a waste of time, Lieutenant.”
    Marian stopped halfway up the stairs and looked down at her. “Help us out here. Cooperate.”
    Rita Galloway shrugged and turned her back.

7
    Marian used her pocket phone to call the Ninth Precinct station; she asked for Detective Sanchez. “Gloria? It’s a little early, but can you get away for lunch? I’m buying.”
    â€œI can always get away for a free lunch,” Gloria Sanchez replied lazily. “Your precinct or mine?”
    â€œHow about meeting halfway?” They agreed on San Remo’s on Eighth Avenue in half an hour.
    As it turned out, Gloria was late; Marian had already ordered by the time the detective from the Ninth sat down across the table from her. “Sorrree,” Gloria said with a lilt in her voice. “DiFalco call’ me in at the las’ second.”
    â€œAnd how is dear old DiFalco?” No love lost between Marian and her former captain.
    â€œGettin’ kinda twitchy, if you ask me, and you jus’ did.”
    â€œTwitchy how?”
    â€œPre-paranoid. He don’ quite thin’ the worl’ is out to get ’eem, but he gettin’ there. What did you order?”
    That ’ eem for him told Marian that Gloria had gone into Hispanic overdrive, something she did when she was irritated. Unless she was being African-American that day, in which case her speech would become mo’ po’ boy the more annoyed she got. Gloria switched between Hispanic and black as the mood suited her, one legacy of a mixed parentage.
    Gloria gave the waiter her order and then asked Marian, “When’s Kelly leaving for California?”
    â€œShe flew to L.A. yesterday. Hates it already.”
    Gloria grinned. “A true Noo Yawker. I thought she lived there once?”
    â€œA long time ago. She didn’t like it then either.”
    â€œShe’ll adjust. She always does.”
    Marian waited until their pasta arrived and they’d both taken the edge off their hunger. Then she said, “Gloria, I know you don’t like me to talk about this, but I have to. I want you to reconsider your decision never to take the Sergeants Exam.”
    â€œI’m goin’ to take it.”
    â€œIf there’s anyone qualified to—What did you say?”
    Gloria laughed. “I say I’m goin’ to take the Sergeants Exam.”
    Marian almost dropped her fork in surprise.