Read Online Murder Take Two by Charlene Weir - Free Book Online

loft, then a high thin keening that stirred the hair on the back of his neck.
    He clambered up the ladder, halted when he got to eye level, and cautiously peered into the huge shadowy space. It took a moment to spot her; the ankle-length prison-striped smock sort of fit in with the dimness. Pink hair didn’t. She sat at the edge of the drop just where the railing had broken, knees drawn up, arms around them. She froze when she saw him.
    â€œMs. Jones?”
    Like a wild thing, she scrabbled away, ended up against the rough wall, eyes wide with panic, mouth open for air.
    â€œHey now,” he said softly. “Take it easy.”
    She was a mess; black eye makeup smeared all over her face, nose running, pink hair all every which way.
    Recognition slowly seeped into her eyes. They were an odd tan color and a shaft of sunlight angling through the small window at the peak of the roof picked out gold flecks. Tears spilled.
    â€œI killed her,” she whispered.

6
    Slowly, Yancy levered himself up into the loft. Go easy here, Clem didn’t look too well wired together. A sudden move on his part and he’d have her exploding, then there’d be raw nerve ends dangling all over the place. He edged along to a spot where he was between her and the broken rail, then squatted, facing her.
    â€œIt’s all right,” he said. “Nobody’s going to hurt you.” He kept his voice loose and slow.
    She brought an elbow up over her eyes, gulped, and sniffled on a ghost of a sob. “Yancy, you got a sweet voice, but you’re full of shit.”
    Her flip, so quick from damp misery to attack, surprised him. Relieved him too. As long as she was mouthing off she wasn’t likely to throw herself over the edge. She looked like a homeless cat, scared and spitting at everybody.
    He’d better treat her like a stray, she seemed better able to handle that. This brought up thoughts about her life he didn’t have time to go into at the moment. He stood up, took four strides, sat beside her with his back against the rough wall, and rested his forearms on his bent knees. “What are you doing up here?”
    She pinned him with a gaze like rifle barrels. Leaning forward, he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and held it out to her.
    She looked at it like she’d never seen such a thing before, then she scrunched it and scrubbed it over her face, mixing tears and black mascara and blue eye shadow and white makeup into one big muddy mask. She blew her nose. “Go away, Yancy. I hate men.”
    â€œYou said you killed her.” He waited. “What did that mean?”
    â€œLife is all one big gigantic joke. Nothing but banana peels and pratfalls. A fart in a cathedral. It was my fault.”
    â€œWhat was?”
    â€œTake your questions and your busy little mind and your dithyrambic little self and get away from me.”
    Dithyrambic? He better get himself a dictionary. “Why was it your fault?”
    â€œIf I’d gotten Laura up here like I was supposed to, Kay wouldn’t have fallen.”
    â€œThen it might be Ms. Edwards who’d be dead.”
    Clem grimaced. “I’m slaying dragons.”
    â€œI’ve slain a dragon or two in my life. Maybe I could help.”
    â€œAre you deaf? Get lost.”
    â€œSorry. I didn’t just wander up for a straw to pick my teeth with. I was sent to get you.”
    â€œGood boy. You did what you were told.”
    â€œYes, ma’am, I usually do.”
    â€œYour mother must be very proud.”
    â€œAs is yours, I’m sure.”
    â€œI don’t have a mother. Go away.”
    â€œYou don’t have a hope of making me go away. You will come with me, docilely and mutely, or I will cuff you and drag you.”
    Clem looked at him seriously for a long minute. “Can you really do that?”
    â€œNo. So I’d appreciate it if you’d just haul ass out of here and come with