Read Online Gin Jones - Helen Binney 01 - A Dose of Death by Gin Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gin Jones
Tags: Mystery Cozy
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grating, don’t worry your pretty little head tone again. “We’re going to find this guy, and we’ll keep you safe. In the meantime, though, you might want to have someone come stay with you. It’s not a good idea for you to be living here alone.”
Helen sighed. Why did everyone insist on foisting companionship on her? “If someone moved in with me, I’d have to kill that new person, too, just like I killed Melissa.”
Peterson laughed. “You’re lucky I know you couldn’t have done it. It’s not usually a good idea to confess to murder in front of a detective.”
“ You sound like my lawyer,” she said. “He keeps insisting I should be a good, law-abiding citizen.”
Peterson didn ‘t seem to get that she was joking. She’d better save the sarcasm for when she talked to Tate. For now, she needed to keep Peterson focused on the job at hand. He was supposed to be getting rid of the reporter. Before Helen could remind him, yet another vehicle came rumbling up the gravel driveway, going about one mile per hour and weaving to avoid the potholes. The low-slung sports car rolled to a stop behind the reporter’s SUV.
A tall, skeletally thin man in his late thirties climbed out of the sports car. He wore khaki pants and a pale blue golf shirt with a darker blue ascot. Helen couldn ‘t help staring at him; she didn’t follow fashion trends, but were ascots really making a come-back?
Peterson said, “I think I’ll go have a chat with Loring now.”
“ And then you can have the same chat with the newest trespasser.”
Peterson was already halfway to Loring ‘s vehicle and pretended not to hear her.
Meanwhile, the newcomer was avoiding Peterson while picking his way across the lawn as carefully as Helen usually did, although he didn ‘t seem to have any particular mobility problems. She glanced down at his shoes. Standard men’s loafers, as far as she could tell, although she supposed they could be an expensive brand, and he thought there might be something in her grass that would ruin them.
He finally reached her and grasped her free hand in both of his. “Is it true? Melissa’s dead?”
“ You should talk to the police about that,” Helen said, nodding at the detective who was leaning against Loring’s car now. She suspected it was more likely Detective Peterson was giving the reporter an off-the-record statement than threatening to arrest him. “Or ask the paramedics. They’re trained to deal with those sorts of issues.”
“ I’ll deal with them later.” The man leaned closer to her, as if they were best friends, and they needed to speak in confidence. He kept patting her hand. “I’m more concerned about you right now.”
“ I’m fine,” she said, taking back her hand with some difficulty. “Who are you?”
“ Oh! I forgot! I’ve heard so much about you that it feels like we’ve known each other forever, and yet we’ve never been formally introduced.” He retrieved a business card from the inner pocket of his jacket. “I’m Gordon Pierce. Owner of the home health care agency.”
So this was Melissa ‘s boss. The one who wouldn’t let Helen decide just how much nursing care her patient was willing to endure.
Pierce was younger than she ‘d imagined him to be. Probably just as well, she thought. He would need time to recover from the havoc she was going to wreak on his career for imposing Melissa—and now the unwanted notoriety surrounding her death—on her.
Pierce placed her hand on his forearm and covered it with his own hand to escort her back to the porch. She tugged back her hand and took a step away from him, tempted to thwap him with her cane, except she needed it for balance.
“You don’t need to be here,” Helen said. “Melissa’s family needs you more than I do.”
“ She doesn’t have a family.” Pierce placed his hand over his heart in an earnest gesture straight out of a soap opera. “Her patients were her family.”
That explained a lot,
Helen sighed. Why did everyone insist on foisting companionship on her? “If someone moved in with me, I’d have to kill that new person, too, just like I killed Melissa.”
Peterson laughed. “You’re lucky I know you couldn’t have done it. It’s not usually a good idea to confess to murder in front of a detective.”
“ You sound like my lawyer,” she said. “He keeps insisting I should be a good, law-abiding citizen.”
Peterson didn ‘t seem to get that she was joking. She’d better save the sarcasm for when she talked to Tate. For now, she needed to keep Peterson focused on the job at hand. He was supposed to be getting rid of the reporter. Before Helen could remind him, yet another vehicle came rumbling up the gravel driveway, going about one mile per hour and weaving to avoid the potholes. The low-slung sports car rolled to a stop behind the reporter’s SUV.
A tall, skeletally thin man in his late thirties climbed out of the sports car. He wore khaki pants and a pale blue golf shirt with a darker blue ascot. Helen couldn ‘t help staring at him; she didn’t follow fashion trends, but were ascots really making a come-back?
Peterson said, “I think I’ll go have a chat with Loring now.”
“ And then you can have the same chat with the newest trespasser.”
Peterson was already halfway to Loring ‘s vehicle and pretended not to hear her.
Meanwhile, the newcomer was avoiding Peterson while picking his way across the lawn as carefully as Helen usually did, although he didn ‘t seem to have any particular mobility problems. She glanced down at his shoes. Standard men’s loafers, as far as she could tell, although she supposed they could be an expensive brand, and he thought there might be something in her grass that would ruin them.
He finally reached her and grasped her free hand in both of his. “Is it true? Melissa’s dead?”
“ You should talk to the police about that,” Helen said, nodding at the detective who was leaning against Loring’s car now. She suspected it was more likely Detective Peterson was giving the reporter an off-the-record statement than threatening to arrest him. “Or ask the paramedics. They’re trained to deal with those sorts of issues.”
“ I’ll deal with them later.” The man leaned closer to her, as if they were best friends, and they needed to speak in confidence. He kept patting her hand. “I’m more concerned about you right now.”
“ I’m fine,” she said, taking back her hand with some difficulty. “Who are you?”
“ Oh! I forgot! I’ve heard so much about you that it feels like we’ve known each other forever, and yet we’ve never been formally introduced.” He retrieved a business card from the inner pocket of his jacket. “I’m Gordon Pierce. Owner of the home health care agency.”
So this was Melissa ‘s boss. The one who wouldn’t let Helen decide just how much nursing care her patient was willing to endure.
Pierce was younger than she ‘d imagined him to be. Probably just as well, she thought. He would need time to recover from the havoc she was going to wreak on his career for imposing Melissa—and now the unwanted notoriety surrounding her death—on her.
Pierce placed her hand on his forearm and covered it with his own hand to escort her back to the porch. She tugged back her hand and took a step away from him, tempted to thwap him with her cane, except she needed it for balance.
“You don’t need to be here,” Helen said. “Melissa’s family needs you more than I do.”
“ She doesn’t have a family.” Pierce placed his hand over his heart in an earnest gesture straight out of a soap opera. “Her patients were her family.”
That explained a lot,
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