Read Online Murder Follows Money by Lora Roberts - Free Book Online

decided to leave that particular worry to Naomi, who probably had ways of dealing with any such problems.
    Naomi wasn’t standing at the side where she had been. She wasn’t anywhere in the audience that I could see. Troubled, I poked Kim, who stared entranced at the glossy young man who’d replaced the glossy young woman at the host’s side.
    “Where’s Naomi? How do we spring Hannah?”
    “Relax,” Kim whispered back. “Hannah knows what time it is. We don’t have to leave until six, you said.”
    “That’s if traffic is not too bad.” The FanciFoods store in Pacific Heights was halfway across San Francisco. If traffic was gridlocked, it could take closer to an hour to get there, and Hannah’s class/demonstration began at seven-thirty. “Where’s Naomi, anyway?”
    “She probably went to Hannah’s dressing room to get everything ready. Hannah won’t wear that TV makeup for an instant longer than she has to. They really glop that stuff on. But she’ll be quick getting it off, and then we’ll go. You’ll see, Liz.”
    I worried for nothing. In a few more minutes, another commercial break came along, and this time, in the game of talk-show musical chairs, Hannah was out. She thanked the host and was ushered off the stage. Kim led the way to a corridor with dressing rooms opening off it. “Let’s just wait here,” she suggested. “Those rooms are tiny, and there’s nothing to see anyway.”
    There was nothing to see, but plenty to hear. “Can’t get away with it,” Naomi shouted shrilly. “My attorney—”
    Hannah’s words were harder to discern. “Signed the agreement—”
    Naomi cut in. She was practically gibbering, but as far as I could tell, she’d moved the argument away from the crepe maker. “Morton . . . investigation,” we heard. Kim and I looked at each other, raising our eyebrows.
    Hannah’s answer came in a lull in the incessant noise of the stagehands. “If it’s investigations we’re talking about, what about your brother Tony’s death? That was convenient for you, wasn’t it, dear?”
    Naomi was silent for a moment. I looked at Kim. Her face was white. “What’s she talking about?” she whispered to me. “My uncle had a heart attack. We always joked about him using so much butter and cream. No one was really surprised.”
    I strained to hear Naomi’s reply, but for once she wasn’t shouting; all that came through the door was a low rumble. The doorknob turned.
    “Let’s get back a little,” I hissed, and we stepped quickly away. I was acting on instinct; something told me that if they knew we’d overheard their conversation, things would be even more unpleasant.
    Hannah swept out of the dressing room, followed by Naomi with a more than usually sour expression on her face.
    “Let’s go,” Hannah said brusquely. “Where’s my water?”
    She looked at me, but I hadn’t thought to provide myself with water.
    “It’s in the limo.” Kim threw herself into the breach.
    “Let’s move then. We can’t hang around here anymore.”
    We followed her into the elevator and out to the car. No one spoke. Hannah scowled. Naomi sulked.
    Don brought up the rear with Kim, but his teasing didn’t make her giggle as it usually did. When we got to the limo I would have to paw through the cooler bags to find the bottled water. “Did we bring a glass?”
    She looked at me blankly, then seemed to hear what I said. “I sure didn’t. She’ll have to swig from the bottle like everyone else does."
    “Kim—about what she said—about your uncle—”
    “I can’t talk about that now. I can’t even think about it.” Kim pressed her hand to her throat, as if to hold her head on. “I’m sure it was just a lie. My aunt might be hard to get along with, but she’s not—she wouldn’t—”
    Hannah reached the limo; the driver opened the passenger door at her regal nod. Kim turned away.
    Hannah slid onto the seat, then stopped.
    I peered over her shoulder into the limo to