Read Online Little Black Book of Murder by Nancy Martin - Free Book Online Page B

at Starr’s party had felt false and posturing to me, this was what I needed most—­honest love and something else that calmed my soul.
    In a while, Michael opened the door. He went out into the hallway first. I tottered past him into the powder room. In the mirror, my cheeks were glowing.
    When I emerged from the powder room, Gus had come back into the house. He pocketed his cell phone.
    Michael was reaching for his car keys.
    Gus said to him, “I heard you’re under house arrest.”
    â€œYou heard right.” Michael grabbed his leather jacket off the peg by the door.
    â€œYou making a break for it, mate?” Gus asked jovially.
    Michael said, “Parole appointment.”
    I came up behind Michael and said, “We need milk.”
    He turned and gave me a last kiss. He winked. “See you later.”
    â€œPut Ralphie in the barn before you go?”
    â€œHe won’t stay there.”
    I handed Michael another apple. “Give him some incentive.”
    Michael tossed the apple up and caught it, then turned to Gus. He surveyed our guest, clearly debating whether or not to encourage his departure. Gus merely smiled at him, holding his ground. At last, Michael gave a grunt and went out the door. When he was gone, Gus turned to me.
    â€œWell, well,” he said. “A cool customer, isn’t he? Not what I expected.”
    I didn’t ask what he expected. “That’s why you brought me home, isn’t it? To get a look at him.”
    â€œCan you blame me? He’s a newsman’s Holy Grail. Mick Abruz­zo, Mafia Prince, the stuff of screaming three-­inch headlines. I’ve heard what he’s done, the crimes he’s been convicted for. And the things he’s apparently gotten away with. He hardly seems your type.”
    â€œMy type?”
    Gus laughed uneasily. “I didn’t expect a good girl like you to go for—­never mind. I’m just going to dig this hole deeper, aren’t I? I’m sure the two of you have long, romantic discussions about John Donne and Schopenhauer.”
    â€œHe’s smarter than you think.”
    â€œI hear he’s plenty smart.” Gus stopped smiling. “I just wonder if you are.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?” I asked.
    Gus suddenly wasn’t my pushy, egotistical boss anymore. He had puzzled concern written on his face. “Are you safe in this house, Nora?”
    â€œSafer than anywhere in the world.”
    Gus mustered another smile and straightened his shoulders. “In that case, I stand corrected. I’d better be going. My phone call came from the office. We’re moving up your Starr article to Friday, the day of the Farm-­to-­Table event. You’ll have a draft ready for me tonight? Just a draft, a little something I can sink my teeth into. If I see it, I’ll be better able to point you in the right direction where Zephyr is concerned. I want our circulation numbers up, and that kind of article will do it.”
    â€œI’ll e-mail you this evening,” I said with more confidence than I was feeling.
    He gave me a longer look, assessing something. Then he nodded shortly. “Good. Then I’ll see you in my office bright and early Monday. Say—­seven?”
    â€œSunday and Monday are my days off.”
    â€œNot this week.” With a jaunty salute, he took his leave. “Remember, you owe me your life now.”
    I wanted Ralphie to run him down and stomp him into the grass, but Gus hot-­footed it to his car unscathed.
    Alone, I wobbled over to one of the kitchen chairs and sat. I held very still, thinking.
    The new twist in my career wasn’t my only worry.
    Michael had left almost an hour earlier than usual for his parole appointment, and he’d gone off happily. I hadn’t asked him where he was going, because Gus was in the room. If I were honest with myself, I’d admit I might not have asked him even if