Read Online Shadowmaker by Joan Lowery Nixon - Free Book Online Page B

She thanked me again for the clothes and the makeover. “I really felt pretty tonight,” she said.
    My impatience vanished, and I answered, “You looked great.”
    “Could I come over tomorrow afternoon with my journal?”
    “Sure,” I said. “Did you write something in it since Mrs. Walgren handed it back?”
    “No.”
    “You’ll have to write something. I know. Write about the carnival. Try to focus on how you felt about the lights, the music, and the crowds.”
    After an instant’s thought her eyes brightened. “I will. That’ll be easy to write about. See you tomorrow!” She slammed the car door and ran up the walk to the front door of the small bungalow. I waited until the door closed behind her, then pulled away from the curb.
    In my rearview mirror I noticed a car without lights move out into the road. Nervously, my heart beginning to pound, I pressed down on the gas pedal, and shot ahead, eager to get home.
    It wasn’t until I rounded two curves and reached a straightaway that I could look back and see that no one wasfollowing me. I decided I was getting paranoid. Just because someone had forgotten to turn on his headlights was no reason to jump to the conclusion that he was after me.
    Even though I tried to think rationally and calm down, as soon as I had parked the car in the garage I ran toward the house as though something were chasing me.
    I burst through the door to find Mom still at her computer. “I thought you’d be in bed,” I said, and locked the door.
    Mom blinked, looked up, and said, “I decided while I was waiting up for you, I’d read over the first few chapters of my novel, and I began thinking about rewriting one of the scenes, and the next thing I knew …” She laughed, hit the
end and save
key, and turned off the computer. “You stayed longer than you thought you would, so you must have been having a good time.”
    I nodded. There was no point in going into my reason for leaving the carnival later than I’d planned. I babbled on about the kids I’d met and what we did until Mom gave a humongous yawn. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” I asked.
    “I bet you are too,” Mom said with a smile. “Do you want anything to eat, or are you ready for bed?”
    “Bed,” I answered.
    Mom put an arm around my shoulders. “What you did for Lana Jean was very nice. Did she have a good time at the carnival?”
    “I guess. In her own way,” I answered. “By the way, she’s coming over tomorrow again so I can help her with her journal.”
    “Fine,” Mom said, and paused. “Maybe the two of you could … work on her journal in your bedroom?”
    “I guess you could hear us on the porch,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay,” Mom said. She gave my shoulders a little squeeze and her eyes crinkled as she added, “The story’s going well, Katie. I feel good about taking time off to write my novel.” She paused and the smile disappeared. “On Monday I should get the information I requested about the Hawkins brothers’ company.”
    I let out a long, impatient sigh. I couldn’t help it. “Mom, I think you’re crazy to start investigating toxic waste around here, but if it’ll save time I’ll help you find out whatever you need.”
    “I think it’s better that you stay out of it, Katie,” Mom said. “In fact, I just wish there was a relative I could send you to.”
    “No,” I said firmly, hoping to stop her from thinking in that direction. She might discover an elderly great-aunt and ship me off, and it would take even longer to get back to Houston. “Mom, no matter what, I’m staying right here with you. And nothing bad is going to happen. I know it.”
    It was the next morning, after church services, that we heard about the murder.
    The people who’d learned about it were so full of the news they even included Mom and me in the telling. Short, lumpy-jowled Belle Dobbs, who managed the drugstore, clutched Mom’s arm and leaned close. “The murder victim