Read Online Murder on the Astral Plane (A Kate Jasper Mystery) by Jaqueline Girdner - Free Book Online
Authors: Jaqueline Girdner
Ads: Link
Quesada.” She stopped listing names suddenly, and lowered her voice. “You know, kiddo,” she half whispered, “I had a bad feeling about the soiree from the start. My friend Rosie was gonna go too, but she called me and told me the vibes were bad—”
“And you dragged me to Justine’s place anyway!” I shouted. The heat in my body rose to my face.
“See, kiddo, we have to investigate,” Barbara went on, choosing to ignore both the words from my mouth and the anger from my mind. “We were there for a reason. And…” she lowered her voice again. “And I felt it when Silk died, Kate. I felt it.”
Damn. I wanted to yell at Barbara. Actually, I would have liked to do something a little more physical, but all I could think of as the Volkswagen bug hurtled down the highway, swerving from lane to lane to the orchestra of other cars’ horns, was that I had seen Silk in my dream.
I shivered suddenly. What if Barbara was right? I shook my head hard, and vowed to never tell her that it was Silk in my dream. Or that I’d flashed on Silk during the exercise. But being Barbara, she probably already knew.
I turned to look at her. Her eyes were already there to meet mine.
“Look at the road!” I shouted as a truck appeared in front of the Volkswagen’s bumper.
Barbara turned away from me slowly, and elegantly glided around the truck, with almost a yard to spare.
“No,” I said once I started breathing again. “No to everything.”
Barbara just laughed merrily and headed for the exit. We were almost home.
She was still pushing her cause when we walked up the stairs to my front door.
“Kate, you know we’ll investigate eventually. Just relax and enjoy it,” she ordered as I put the key in the lock and shoved the door open.
“Wayne,” I warned softly, and headed for the bedroom.
Barbara winked as if I’d just signed a contract promising to investigate, and began to follow me.
“You still hungry?” I asked. “Why don’t you see if there’s anything in the kitchen?”
She turned obediently, whispering over her shoulder, “I know you need some privacy right now.”
I could hear her giggling all the way into the kitchen. I knew I wasn’t a Murder Type, no matter what Kettering had suggested. If I had been, Barbara would have been a dead woman a long time ago.
Wayne was in bed, right where I’d left him. I was glad to see that he’d been drinking both the apple juice and the water I’d left for him, their levels low in their respective bottles now. Wayne lay on his back, his breath wheezing in and out as his pajamaed chest rose and fell. I stared for a moment at his sleeping face, at the cauliflower nose and low brows that made him so homely in most people’s eyes and so dear in mine. I felt his forehead lightly, touching a curl of his hair stealthily before removing my hand. His forehead was moist, but not so hot as it had been when I’d left. Or was I fooling myself? If I could have willed him back to health, I would have. I knelt down and laid my head on his chest, listening for the rattling of pneumonia, hoping I wouldn’t hear it.
“Kate?” he murmured before I could hear anything.
I pulled my head up guiltily. I hadn’t meant to wake him.
“Yes, sweetie,” I whispered back.
I could see his vulnerable brown eyes under his brows from this angle. They were childlike, innocent. Feverish.
I wanted to cry, but I didn’t know why.
“Feel better,” Wayne muttered. I was pretty sure he was referring to himself. “Don’t worry, okay?”
I put my arms around him and jammed my face into his wheezing chest, not as gently as I’d meant to.
“What, me worry?” I demanded through his chest and my own tears. He smelled of sweat and medicines…and Wayne. I could have held him forever.
“Love you,” he said.
“Oh, sweetie,” I answered, still holding him. I wanted to tell him just how much I loved him, but I couldn’t even begin. Was it my “five” nature? So I mumbled,
“And you dragged me to Justine’s place anyway!” I shouted. The heat in my body rose to my face.
“See, kiddo, we have to investigate,” Barbara went on, choosing to ignore both the words from my mouth and the anger from my mind. “We were there for a reason. And…” she lowered her voice again. “And I felt it when Silk died, Kate. I felt it.”
Damn. I wanted to yell at Barbara. Actually, I would have liked to do something a little more physical, but all I could think of as the Volkswagen bug hurtled down the highway, swerving from lane to lane to the orchestra of other cars’ horns, was that I had seen Silk in my dream.
I shivered suddenly. What if Barbara was right? I shook my head hard, and vowed to never tell her that it was Silk in my dream. Or that I’d flashed on Silk during the exercise. But being Barbara, she probably already knew.
I turned to look at her. Her eyes were already there to meet mine.
“Look at the road!” I shouted as a truck appeared in front of the Volkswagen’s bumper.
Barbara turned away from me slowly, and elegantly glided around the truck, with almost a yard to spare.
“No,” I said once I started breathing again. “No to everything.”
Barbara just laughed merrily and headed for the exit. We were almost home.
She was still pushing her cause when we walked up the stairs to my front door.
“Kate, you know we’ll investigate eventually. Just relax and enjoy it,” she ordered as I put the key in the lock and shoved the door open.
“Wayne,” I warned softly, and headed for the bedroom.
Barbara winked as if I’d just signed a contract promising to investigate, and began to follow me.
“You still hungry?” I asked. “Why don’t you see if there’s anything in the kitchen?”
She turned obediently, whispering over her shoulder, “I know you need some privacy right now.”
I could hear her giggling all the way into the kitchen. I knew I wasn’t a Murder Type, no matter what Kettering had suggested. If I had been, Barbara would have been a dead woman a long time ago.
Wayne was in bed, right where I’d left him. I was glad to see that he’d been drinking both the apple juice and the water I’d left for him, their levels low in their respective bottles now. Wayne lay on his back, his breath wheezing in and out as his pajamaed chest rose and fell. I stared for a moment at his sleeping face, at the cauliflower nose and low brows that made him so homely in most people’s eyes and so dear in mine. I felt his forehead lightly, touching a curl of his hair stealthily before removing my hand. His forehead was moist, but not so hot as it had been when I’d left. Or was I fooling myself? If I could have willed him back to health, I would have. I knelt down and laid my head on his chest, listening for the rattling of pneumonia, hoping I wouldn’t hear it.
“Kate?” he murmured before I could hear anything.
I pulled my head up guiltily. I hadn’t meant to wake him.
“Yes, sweetie,” I whispered back.
I could see his vulnerable brown eyes under his brows from this angle. They were childlike, innocent. Feverish.
I wanted to cry, but I didn’t know why.
“Feel better,” Wayne muttered. I was pretty sure he was referring to himself. “Don’t worry, okay?”
I put my arms around him and jammed my face into his wheezing chest, not as gently as I’d meant to.
“What, me worry?” I demanded through his chest and my own tears. He smelled of sweat and medicines…and Wayne. I could have held him forever.
“Love you,” he said.
“Oh, sweetie,” I answered, still holding him. I wanted to tell him just how much I loved him, but I couldn’t even begin. Was it my “five” nature? So I mumbled,
Similar Books
