Read Online Nickeled-And-Dimed to Death by Denise Swanson - Free Book Online

His usually tanned face was a sallow yellow, and even his ultrawhite teeth seemed less bright. “First, I didn’t do it.”
    “Of course not. I never thought for a minute that you had,” I assured him, then said, “Let’s start with the victim. Who was murdered and where?”
    “Elise Whitmore, in the living room of her house.” He started to say more, but his voice thickened and he choked to a stop.
    Shit! It took me less than half a second to realize that she was the woman who had sold me the chocolate molds.
    “Was she the one you were escorting to the gallery opening?” I forced myself to sound calm, but I didn’t like coincidences.
    “Yes.” Boone shoved his fingers through his tawny gold hair.
    Knowing how much he hated having his hair messed up, I winced. Then again, his customarily perfectly styled coif was already standing on end, and I suspected that for once his hair was the least of his worries. As was the fact that his six-hundred-dollar DKNY suit was torn at the shoulder.
    “How did you know her?” I asked, wondering if Boone had sent her to me to sell the antique molds or maybe just mentioned my interest.
    “I was representing her in her divorce proceedings, and she asked me if I would accompany her to the opening.” Boone toyed with a loose button on his shirt. “Since I was free that evening and it sounded interesting, I agreed.”
    “Are those the only reasons?” I probed. Boone tended to be a bit impulsive.
    “She was afraid she might run into her husband there and didn’t want to face him alone,” Boone admitted. “She said he might be violent.”
    “That’s great!” I nearly shouted. “He’s much more likely to have killed her than you. What possible reason do the cops have to think you did it?”
    “Well . . .” Boone concentrated on his shoes, trying to rub a scuff out with his thumb. “You see . . .” He was clearly hiding something.
    “Was this a date?” I asked. Although Boone was my best friend and I’d known him all my life, I still wasn’t sure which team he batted for. He’d taken out women, but somehow he never seemed all that interested in them. Then again, he’d never seemed all that interested in men, either. “Were you involved with her?”
    “Absolutely not.” He shook his head vehemently. “It’s unethical for an attorney to date a client.” He swallowed hard. “But that is why the cops think I murdered her.” He grimaced. “Their theory is that we had an intimate relationship, but then had a fight that resulted in Elise threatening to report me to the bar association, so I killed her.”
    “Okay, that’s motive.” I checked the time. We had only two minutes left.
    “And since I was the one to find her body, I obviously had means.”
    “Tell me about that.” I could guess, but wanted to make sure.
    “I arrived at ten p.m. and rang the bell. When she didn’t answer, I tried phoning, but both her cell and landline went to voice mail, so I was worried. She has—I mean, had—asthma. I was concerned that she might have had an attack and not gotten to her inhaler in time.” Boone wrinkled his brow. “The house was dark and I was trying to decide what to do—whether to dial nine-one-one or not—when I noticed that the front door wasn’t quite latched, so I went inside to check on her.”
    “And?”
    “And I found her lying in front of the breakfront.” Boone wiped a tear from his eye. “She was barefoot and wearing a robe that had fallen open. She didn’t have anything on underneath, and at first I thought she had been looking for her inhaler and passed out, since I knew she kept her spares in the drawer of that cabinet. But when I knelt down next to her, I noticed the blood on the floor and saw that there was a bullet hole in the middle of her forehead.”
    “Did you call the police immediately?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer. “I mean, as soon as you saw the bullet wound.”
    “First I checked to see if she