Read Online Pretty Girls by Karin Slaughter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karin Slaughter
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vehicle.”
“Young lady, to me a bolo is a garish string tie.” Helen was in full librarian mode again, taking out all the angst that she couldn’t direct toward Claire. “Could you trouble yourself to speak English?”
Ginny provided, “Be-on-the-look-out. Am I right?” She smiled sweetly at the cop. “I have a color television in my sitting room.”
Claire said, “I can’t sit in the driveway like this.” Helen grabbed her arm and helped her stand. What would Paul do if he were here? He would take charge. Claire couldn’t do that. She could barely keep her legs underneath her. “Did the burglars take anything?”
The cop said, “We don’t think so, ma’am, but we need you to walk through with the detectives and check.” She pointed toward a group of men standing by the mudroom door. They were all wearing Columbo trench coats. One of them even had a cigar clenched between his teeth. “They’ll give you a checklist to generate an inventory. You’ll need a thorough report for your insurance company.”
Claire felt so overwhelmed that she almost laughed. The woman might as well have asked her to catalog the Smithsonian. “I’ve got people coming. I need to make sure the tables are set up. The caterer—”
“Ma’am,” the cop interrupted, “we can’t let anyone into the house until the scene is cleared.”
Claire put her fist to her mouth so she wouldn’t tell the cop to stop calling her fucking “ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” the cop said.
Claire dropped her fist. There was a car stopped at the bottom of the driveway. Gray Mercedes. Headlights on. Yellow FUNERAL flag hanging out of the window. Another Mercedes slowed to a stop behind it. The funeral procession had finally caught up. What was she going to do? Falling to the ground again seemed like the simplest solution. And then what? The ambulance. The hospital. The sedatives. Eventually, she would be sent home. Eventually, she would find herself standing in this same place again with the detectives and the inventory and insurance and the bullshit. This was all Paul’s fault. He should be here. He should be taking care of all of this. That was his job.
Claire Scott was furious at her dead husband for not being there to solve her problems .
“Honey?” Helen asked.
“I’m okay.” Claire had realized a long time ago that if you lie with enough conviction, you can usually fool yourself. All that she had to do now was generate a to-do list. That’s what Paul would have done. He had always said there was nothing that a list couldn’t solve. Conquer the details and you conquer the problem. “I’ll go walk the detectives through the house. We’ll need to cancel the wake.” She turned to the limo driver, who’d been discreetly standing to the side. “Can you take my grandmother back to the home, please?” She told the cop, “Please cancel the ambulance. I’m fine. There are over a hundred people on their way here. Unless you want them coming into the house, you need to post someone at the bottom of the driveway to stop them.”
“Will do.” The cop seemed happy to get away from them. She practically ran down the driveway.
Claire felt some of her bluster dissipate. She looked at her mother. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“You’re already doing it.” Helen looped her hand through Claire’s arm and walked with her toward the men in trench coats. “Did you hurt your head when you fainted?”
“No.” Claire felt the back of her head. The bruises from the alley were still tender. Another lump wouldn’t make much of a difference. “Have I ever fainted before?”
“Not that I know of. You should try to do it in the grass next time. I thought you’d cracked open your noggin’.”
She squeezed her mother’s arm. “You don’t have to stay here.”
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re all right.”
Claire pressed together her lips. There had been a time when her mother had been incapable of being present
“Young lady, to me a bolo is a garish string tie.” Helen was in full librarian mode again, taking out all the angst that she couldn’t direct toward Claire. “Could you trouble yourself to speak English?”
Ginny provided, “Be-on-the-look-out. Am I right?” She smiled sweetly at the cop. “I have a color television in my sitting room.”
Claire said, “I can’t sit in the driveway like this.” Helen grabbed her arm and helped her stand. What would Paul do if he were here? He would take charge. Claire couldn’t do that. She could barely keep her legs underneath her. “Did the burglars take anything?”
The cop said, “We don’t think so, ma’am, but we need you to walk through with the detectives and check.” She pointed toward a group of men standing by the mudroom door. They were all wearing Columbo trench coats. One of them even had a cigar clenched between his teeth. “They’ll give you a checklist to generate an inventory. You’ll need a thorough report for your insurance company.”
Claire felt so overwhelmed that she almost laughed. The woman might as well have asked her to catalog the Smithsonian. “I’ve got people coming. I need to make sure the tables are set up. The caterer—”
“Ma’am,” the cop interrupted, “we can’t let anyone into the house until the scene is cleared.”
Claire put her fist to her mouth so she wouldn’t tell the cop to stop calling her fucking “ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” the cop said.
Claire dropped her fist. There was a car stopped at the bottom of the driveway. Gray Mercedes. Headlights on. Yellow FUNERAL flag hanging out of the window. Another Mercedes slowed to a stop behind it. The funeral procession had finally caught up. What was she going to do? Falling to the ground again seemed like the simplest solution. And then what? The ambulance. The hospital. The sedatives. Eventually, she would be sent home. Eventually, she would find herself standing in this same place again with the detectives and the inventory and insurance and the bullshit. This was all Paul’s fault. He should be here. He should be taking care of all of this. That was his job.
Claire Scott was furious at her dead husband for not being there to solve her problems .
“Honey?” Helen asked.
“I’m okay.” Claire had realized a long time ago that if you lie with enough conviction, you can usually fool yourself. All that she had to do now was generate a to-do list. That’s what Paul would have done. He had always said there was nothing that a list couldn’t solve. Conquer the details and you conquer the problem. “I’ll go walk the detectives through the house. We’ll need to cancel the wake.” She turned to the limo driver, who’d been discreetly standing to the side. “Can you take my grandmother back to the home, please?” She told the cop, “Please cancel the ambulance. I’m fine. There are over a hundred people on their way here. Unless you want them coming into the house, you need to post someone at the bottom of the driveway to stop them.”
“Will do.” The cop seemed happy to get away from them. She practically ran down the driveway.
Claire felt some of her bluster dissipate. She looked at her mother. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“You’re already doing it.” Helen looped her hand through Claire’s arm and walked with her toward the men in trench coats. “Did you hurt your head when you fainted?”
“No.” Claire felt the back of her head. The bruises from the alley were still tender. Another lump wouldn’t make much of a difference. “Have I ever fainted before?”
“Not that I know of. You should try to do it in the grass next time. I thought you’d cracked open your noggin’.”
She squeezed her mother’s arm. “You don’t have to stay here.”
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re all right.”
Claire pressed together her lips. There had been a time when her mother had been incapable of being present
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