Read Online Pink Balloons and Other Deadly Things (Mystery Series - Book One) by Nancy Tesler - Free Book Online Page B

years back, I’d had to get fingerprinted at the police station. Routine for any town employee.
    “I hope you’re not planning a vacation. It’d be best if you stuck around. And I hope you took my advice and got in touch with a lawyer.”
    I shook my head, not trusting my voice. How could I explain to this detective that people like me don't know criminal lawyers? We don't even know other people who know criminal lawyers. Do they list them in the yellow pages? I wondered. I could picture the ad; Blank and Blank, experienced trial attorneys—-rapists and murderers, our specialty.
    He snapped his notebook closed. “Up to you. Your car will be returned to you this evening. Need a ride home?”
    High up on my list, a ride in a police car. “I’ve borrowed a car. I think I’ll stay here for a while.”
    He didn’t leave right away, just stood watching me from under hooded lids.
    “I’m not going to jump, if that's what you’re afraid of,” I muttered, unable to stand the scrutiny.
    “Didn’t think you were the type. Take it easy now.” And he sauntered back the way we had come.
    Take it easy?
    I sat on the wooden bench the town provides for tourists and tried to remember what our street had looked like that afternoon. I thought about Sue Tomkins. Nothing ever escapes Sue's notice. Except, of course, I thought wryly, what time she’d decided to walk the dog last Saturday. But if there had been a car or van or truck on our street, Sue would surely remember. I knew Brodsky had questioned her, but maybe she’d been too rattled about the murder and hadn’t been thinking clearly. Making a mental note to call her, I watched the sea gulls as they floated on the wind, wishing I had their wings, wishing I could absorb by osmosis the peace they exuded.
    After a while I walked back to Meg’s car and drove home.
    MATT WAS SUBDUED when I walked in the door, failing to greet me with his usual hug. I kissed him on the top of the head and headed for the kitchen, calling over my shoulder that we were having lamb chops and he should go wash up and set the table. It was important for the kids to believe their lives were going on as usual.
    “Mom, bunch of messages on the machine,” Allie yelled from upstairs.
    “Didja remember mint jelly?” Matt shouted from the bathroom.
    Well, that was normal.
    One of Rich’s legacies to our children: Cranberry sauce goes with chicken, gherkins with brisket, mint jelly with lamb. Shouldn’t take a genius to remember to buy them together, right, sweetheart?
    Luckily, fortune was smiling on me and I found a jar of mint jelly nestled behind a box of Kraft’s macaroni and cheese. I put it on the table in the dining area of our combination kitchen-family room. We practically live in this one sunny room. It’s become a ritual, me cooking, Allie sprawled out on our deep-cushioned chintz couch, reading, while Matt does his homework at the table. It makes for a kind of togetherness and sharing that had eluded us in our more spacious quarters.
    The small dining room serves as a home office for me. No more formal dinner parties, entertaining buyers. I don’t miss giving the parties, and I don’t miss the high-powered money talk. On occasion I admit I do miss my marble-tiled bathroom with the built-in Jacuzzi, but only when it’s been one of those days that make you want to crawl back into the womb. Like today.
    I pressed the playback button on my answering machine and began cutting up vegetables for a salad.
    “Carrie, honey?”
    Meg was back.
    “You still need my car, or have the storm troopers released yours? Give a call. I’m at your disposal day or night.”
    Relief flooded through me at the sound of that comforting voice. I was about to call her when the next message played.
    “Phyllis Lutz, Ms. Carlin. Just wanted you to know I was up all night with a migraine. I don’t think you’re helping me. I’m seeing Dr. Heller again today. I'll call you if I decide not to keep my Friday