Read Online Killer Blonde by Elaine Viets - Free Book Online Page A

everywhere. She even found one chunk on Vicki’s filing cabinet. She brushed broken bits off the desk, then crawled along the pink shag carpet looking for pieces buried in the thick looped pile.
    She threw the shards in the rolled-up carpet. She was about to send the dead blonde down to the Dumpster when she panicked and remembered something important. The plans! Vicki’s plans for her corner office were still on her desk. Minfreda shoved them into the rolled-up carpet.
    Now, at last, she slid the bundled body down the chute. The carpet made a good solid landing, and stayed rolled up. No pink-painted fingernails showed, no pink shoes peeked out. There were no telltale hanks of blonde hair.
    But Minfreda took no chances. She threw plywood scraps, broken plaster, torn-out molding, and discarded ceiling tiles down the chute until Vicki was covered by a foot-thick pile of construction debris.
    â€œSorry I won’t be in tomorrow, but I’m feeling just a little bit under,” Minfreda said, and fought the urge to giggle again. If she started laughing, she wouldn’t stop. She wanted to run through the building yelling, “Ding-dong, the witch is dead.”
    When Minfreda went back to Vicki’s office, the atmosphere seemed less poisonous. She pulled Vicki’s desk back in place, straightened her desktop, and righted the vase with the pink rose. She even refilled its spilled water. She vacuumed Vicki’s rug. The office cleaning crew could be haphazard. She also vacuumed the hall and the path she took through the department, making sure there were no traces of the fight or the body removal.
    When she finished, Minfreda’s hands were grimy. She caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She was a mess. Her suit was torn under one armpit and streaked with dirt and grayish-white plaster dust. She had runs in both stockings. Her golden hair straggled down her back, and her makeup was smeared.
    Minfreda washed and repaired her face and combed her silky blonde hair. She threw away her laddered stockings, figuring bare legs would be less noticeable. She shook the dust off her clothes. She couldn’t do much about her torn suit, but she had a plan to disguise it.
    Now she had to write a farewell letter. Minfreda rummaged in the janitor’s closet until she found a pair of yellow rubber gloves. They made her hands feel thick and clumsy. Good, she thought. She would type more like Vicki that way.
    Minfreda pulled out a sheet of Vicki’s pink personal stationery with her name on the top. She sat down at Vicki’s typewriter and wrote:
    Business is no longer relevant to my life.
    I want to live! I want to love! I want to follow my heart! Call me wild, call me crazy, but call me gone. Please don’t try to follow me. I want to be free.
    Before I go, I’d like to set one thing straight. Minfreda should have had my promotion. I stole her ideas. I put my name on the report she prepared for Mr. Hammonds. Her original carbons on my desk are the proof. I was co-opted by the Establishment.
    By resigning today I will lose my job, but regain my soul. Try not to judge me. I am leaving to be a new woman and a better one.
    Good-bye and good luck.
    Minfreda typed one last word at the end:
Vicki.
She wasn’t going to attempt her late boss’s signature. It was too flowery.
    Minfreda bent her golden head, rereading and admiring her work. All those
me
s and
I
s. That refusal to accept any responsibility. It was so Vicki. It was so brilliant.
    Minfreda typed one more letter and put it in a pink envelope. She took that one with her. She didn’t want it found right away.
    She checked her watch. It was eight thirty. The cleaning crew arrived at nine. She had to leave now, but her work wasn’t done yet. She knew Vicki rented a small house off U.S. 1. Minfreda looked up the address in the company directory.
    Minfreda found Vicki’s purse and keys. She put on Vicki’s pink coat, plus