Read Online Hope to Die by Lawrence Block - Free Book Online Page B

like, I don't know, a vulture or something. I mean, they're dead. What difference does the money make? It's not as if they got to keep it. They were murdered, they're dead."
    There was a silence, and it lasted awhile because the waitress turned up with the food. T J picked up a french fry and made a face at it, indicating it wasn't as well-done as he'd hoped, but he didn't send anything back, or leave anything on his plate, so I guess it wasn't too bad. My cheeseburger tasted fine, and the coffee was better than the Morning Star's.
    Lia took one bite of her square of spinach pie and put her fork down. "I envied her," she said abruptly. "Kristin. That's what it was. I envied her when they were alive, having two wonderful parents who loved her and loved each other. My parents- no, forget it, I don't want to go there."
    "All right."
    "Uncle Byrne and Aunt Susan kept inviting me over for dinner. I begged off about half the time because I didn't want to take advantage. And I couldn't help feeling like a poor relation, which I was right to feel, really, because that's what I was. I'm on scholarship, otherwise I couldn't afford Columbia in a million years, and even with a scholarship it's not easy."
    Her hands were busy as she talked, gesturing, touching her hair, brushing away imaginary crumbs. When her nails caught the light I saw she was wearing colorless nail polish on them. I decided she was painstaking enough to protect her nails but disinclined to embellish them. She wasn't wearing lipstick, and I wondered if she'd used colorless lip gloss. Was there a pattern here, and what could I make of it?
    "You envied Kristin," I prompted.
    "When they were alive. And when I heard what happened, after the initial shock wore off, or maybe it hadn't worn off, not really- " She paused for breath, looked away, then met my eyes. "I thought, well, now she's rich. And I envied her all over again."
    "And you figure that makes you a horrible person."
    "I don't think it makes me a candidate for sainthood. Do you?"
    "I haven't met a lot of saints," I said, "but then I've lived a sheltered life. I don't think less of you for envying your cousin, before or after the murder, and I certainly don't think less of you for owning up to it. But what I think of you isn't very important, either. How do you feel?"
    "How do I feel?"
    "Right now."
    She frowned, thinking about it. "I feel okay," she said, surprised.
    "Good. How'd you get from envy to suspicion?"
    "From envy to- oh, right. Suspicion's an overstatement, really. I wouldn't call it suspicion."
    "We'll find something else to call it. How'd you get there?"
    "The burglar alarm," she said.
    "They had a burglar alarm?"
    "And it didn't go off."
    "Maybe they forgot to set it."
    "That's what it said in the papers, that they owned a burglar alarm but neglected to set it that night. But they always set it. They had a break-in the first year they owned the house, someone came in through a window and took some cash and a portable TV, and after that they got the alarm system. It was connected to the front door and to all the windows on the first floor, and the store downstairs from them had its own alarm system, and that was set, too."
    "Maybe they just set it most of the time."
    She was shaking her head. "Both of them, Aunt Susan and Uncle Byrne, they would set it before they went down to the corner to mail a letter. It was automatic. On their way out they would key in the number to set it, and the minute they walked in the door they keyed it in again to turn it off. They'd been doing it for twenty years. They wouldn't suddenly quit and get robbed the same night."
    "If the keypad was by the front door- "
    "It wasn't. It was inside the coat closet."
    "That's better," I said, "but it's still the first place a burglar would look."
    "Why would he look anywhere?" T J wondered, and answered his own question. "The metal tape on the windows. Tip 'em off in a heartbeat."
    "Tape on a window doesn't mean there's an alarm