Read Online Holidays Can Be Murder: A Charlie Parker Christmas Mystery by Connie Shelton - Free Book Online Page A

white powder. Now I know these things are usually referred to in grams or kilos or such, but that was completely outside my realm. I’d put the contents at about a tablespoon or two.
    Probably the cocaine that had been found in her system. I wasn’t about to dip my finger into it and take a taste. How was I going to know what it would taste like anyway?
    I placed the small bag on the floor and proceeded with my search of the room. The nightstand drawer yielded a paperback romance and a pair of reading glasses that I’d bet Paula never wore in front of anyone else. The adjoining bathroom vanity held a large makeup case with a mirror encircled by a row of Hollywood-style makeup lights. Everything in the case looked standard for a woman who took great pains with her face and hair. No more little baggies. And if there had been, I was sure the police had thoroughly checked over this treasure trove and removed anything of use to them. I wasn’t interested so much in her stash as I was in where she’d gotten it.
    Since it looked as if Paula was crazy enough to travel with her powdered treasure hidden away in her airline bag, did that mean she’d brought it all with her? Or did she have a connection here in town? For a person who planned to move in and stay awhile, I couldn’t imagine the tiny bit I’d found would last very long. And based on the behavior I’d witnessed the couple of times I’d been around her, she’d probably already dipped into it more than once.
    I stood in the doorway between bedroom and bath, pondering what I might have missed.
    A purse.
    Every woman carried a purse and it would surely be where she kept those items she’d want close at hand. An address book, photos, stuff like that. I crossed the bedroom again and pulled open the dresser drawers. The top two were empty, the next two held spare linens and towels—obviously things that belonged to the household, not to Paula. The bottom drawer was where I hit paydirt. Under another stack of towels, was a black handbag, not Paula’s large everyday one, but a small quilted leather one about six by twelve inches, with a gold chain for a strap. Small and dressy enough that it could double as an evening bag, but large enough to carry the essentials. And inside, I found two very essential items: an address book and a wallet with a nice juicy section of photos. Why the police hadn’t seen fit to take these, I didn’t know, but I wasn’t passing up a chance like this.
    A quick glance told me that none of the names or faces—except one stiffly posed photo of Wilbur and Judy—meant anything to me. But maybe Wilbur could identify more of them and give me a whole load of clues.
    I realized that it was completely dark outside now and since I’d volunteered to provide dinner for everyone, it was time I hustled myself back home. I’d just closed the drapes in the guest room and switched off the light, pulling the door closed behind me when I bumped into Wilbur in the hallway.

10

    “Oh! I didn’t hear you out here,” I gasped.
    “Um, I just thought I better check on you. See how things were coming along.” He fumbled with a ring full of keys.
    “You’re coming back to our place for dinner, aren’t you?” I sidestepped him and worked my way toward the living room. “I found a couple of items you might be able to help with—if that’s okay.” I held up the wallet and address book.
    “Sure. Drake told me to come right back. I just thought I’d be sure the house was locked and some lights were left on. That’s what Judy . . .” He glanced around uncertainly.
    “Okay, then, let’s go.” I took his elbow and steered him toward the door. He gave one sharp glance toward the sofa where his mother had died, then followed me timidly.
    I switched on the porch light and twisted the little thing in the middle of the doorknob to lock it. I made a show of checking it after I closed it behind us.
    “All set?” I asked.
    Wilbur nodded absently and