Read Online Photo Finished by Laura Childs - Free Book Online

true feelings for him, Carmela felt a painful stab.

Chapter 5
    G ABBY, I’m so sorry about Saturday night,” Carmela apologized for about the twentieth time. “I should never have let you go out back by yourself.”
    â€œCarmela, it’s okay, really,” said Gabby. “I’ll get over it. I am over it.”
    It was Monday morning. Gabby had shown up on time at nine o’clock, looking slightly subdued, but certainly no less enthusiastic about her job as Carmela’s assistant.
    â€œI was afraid Stuart wouldn’t let you come back to work,” said Carmela. Gabby’s husband of barely two years was a combination worrywart and hard-ass. Stuart was also, as Tandy whispered when Gabby was absent from the shop, a male chauvinist pig. Only Tandy never actually said the word, she just spelled it out: p-i-g.
    â€œMy coming back to work here was an issue,” Gabby admitted. “But I promised Stuart I’d never venture into the back alley again, even during daytime hours.” Gabby grimaced. “Stuart’s not particularly happy making that concession, but I wasn’t about to give up a job I love.” Gabby adjusted her black velvet headband and nervously picked at a mythical speck of lint on her camel-colored sweater. “Besides, it’s not as though murder was a rare occurrence around here.”
    Gabby was right. New Orleans was infamous for its nasty murder rate, and the French Quarter had always been a hotbed of trouble. Hot music, hot women, hot tempers.
    Gabby smiled broadly. For her the issue was closed. “Okay to put the OPEN sign on the front door?” she asked Carmela as the phone on the front counter shrilled.
    â€œPlease,” said Carmela.
    Gabby flipped over the sign, then swiped at the telephone. “Hello.” She listened for a few seconds, then held it out to Carmela. “It’s Tandy and she’s super upset!”
    â€œTandy,” said Carmela, taking the phone.
    â€œThe police kept him until five in the morning and now they’ve called him in again,” said the tearful voice on the other end of the phone.
    â€œYou mean Billy?” Carmela gasped. Of course Billy. Who else?
    â€œIt’s downright crazy,” shrilled Tandy. “Insane. Billy had absolutely nothing to do with Bartholomew Hayward’s death! You know that and so do I!”
    â€œOf course he didn’t,” said Carmela. “The police are probably just trying to put together a possible timeline or something. Or they’re quizzing Billy about acquaintances of Barty’s, fishing around for possible suspects.”
    â€œNo, they’re not,” blubbered Tandy. “They keep asking Billy about the latex gloves.”
    â€œWhat about latex gloves?” asked Carmela.
    â€œThe police found a box of them in Barty’s workroom.” Tandy paused and there was a loud honk as she blew her nose. “Carmela, this is awful!” she cried. “The police think that, just because they couldn’t find any fingerprints, Billy might be involved!”
    Billy Cobb involved? No way. Billy was a good kid. Bright, polite, upstanding. Right?
    â€œHas Billy got an attorney?” asked Carmela. She knew that even if you were totally innocent, it was always smart to be represented by a crackerjack attorney. A lot of people learn that one the hard way.
    â€œI already called Baby,” sniffled Tandy. “And Del’s agreed to represent Billy.” Baby’s husband, Del Fontaine, was a high-powered attorney and senior partner with the law firm Jackson, Fontaine & DeWitt.
    â€œOkay, honey,” said Carmela. “Let us know if you hear anything.”
    â€œI might be coming in later,” said Tandy.
    â€œReally?” said Carmela, surprised by Tandy’s remark.
    â€œThere’s nothing else to do right now,” said Tandy, her voice quavering wildly.
    Twenty minutes later, Baby Fontaine and