Read Online J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 05 - Season for Murder by J.M Griffin - Free Book Online

still held first place, front and center, as we crowded into the elevator and rode to the second floor.
    Mr. Perkins held the doors at bay while we rushed forward. I followed Aunt Muffy and my mother along the corridor. A wreath of tattered silk flowers, covered with a thick layer of dust, clung to Iva’s front door. A potted plant of crumbling, chalky, dried flowers leaned against the wall on the waist-high narrow wood ledge that ran the length of the corridor above the handrail. Lined up domino style in front of the door, we waited, still and silent in mannequin mode.
    Pointing to the pot, Mr. Perkins whispered that the key had been taped to the bottom of it. I nodded and glanced up and down the hallway. Closed apartment doors lined both sides and stretched out on either side of the elevator. A stairwell stood at each end of the corridor. I unlocked and turned the door knob to Iva’s apartment.
    We entered the three-room residence. I gently closed the door behind us. The others tiptoed through the rooms while I watched. The lock in the door handle turned under my fingertips, and satisfied we were safe, I moved forward. No sense in being interrupted, right?
    The galley kitchen smelled from the dirty dishes piled in the sink filled with gray water. The floor, covered with a grimy film, hadn’t been cleaned in ages. I opened the fridge, put my hand over my nose, and stepped back, gagging on the disgusting odor of rotten food. Dishes of prior meals lay exposed with slick green goo covering them. Yuck. I quickly closed the door.
    My mother rummaged through the antique desk against the wall in hope of finding what? I didn’t have any idea, and figured she didn’t, either. Aunt Muffy rifled through the bedroom closet while Mr. Perkins tossed the contents of the dresser drawers. Every now and then, he chuckled. I wasn’t sure if it was at the sight of gigantic underwear, or if he was thoroughly enjoying himself. His humor brought a smile to my lips.
    Within moments, I’d checked the French-style hutch in the living room. I glanced over my shoulder, as my mother flipped through letters from the desk. I watched her pick up what appeared to be a personal journal.
    “What are we looking for, Mom?” I asked as I stared at the journal in her hands.
    “We’re in search of anything that will lead us to Iva’s killer. She had secrets on everyone. She should have realized they might get her in trouble someday. Having dirt on people and holding it over them is an unhealthy habit, don’t you think?”
    “Was she that bad?”
    “If I have the stories straight, yes, she was. I’d heard a few things here and there, but I never paid much attention to them. She’d always been nice to me, you see. The problem with senior citizens is that some of them aren’t always correct in their assumptions concerning each other. That’s why I didn’t heed the gossip.”
    Curious, I asked, “What was said about her?”
    “There was an incident when one of the older ladies whacked Iva with her cane while yelling profanities at her. There were center workers in attendance at that time and they brought the assault to an end.” Mom tossed the mail onto the desk and continued. “Mrs. Culligan, a woman who helps me out, said Iva had taunted the old lady more than once. Iva insinuated that she had a secret, and would tell the woman’s daughter. That kind of thing is extremely upsetting to the elderly.”
    I nodded. Unable to find anything of worth in the cabinet, I turned to the magazine rack on the floor. Iva owned lovely antiques even if they were grimy and fingerprint-smeared.
    We all met back in the tiny entryway and whispered our findings to one another. It was as though we’d entered a 1940s film noir, where there was a mystery with no foundation to it.
    A smile teetered on the edge of my lips until I broke out into a full grin. The comedic scene we presented tickled my sense of humor. Mom glanced at me with narrowed eyes. I checked my