Read Online Shotgun Lullaby (A Conway Sax Mystery) by Steve Ulfelder - Free Book Online Page A

“You’re not Gus’s mom.”
    She laughed. “We’re only a few years apart, which makes for an odd relationship and then some. It’s one of the perils of being a trophy wife. Drink?”
    She fixed a Diet Pepsi for me, bubbly water for herself and Randall. She looked us over, not trying to hide it, while we sat in a white sofa and matching armchairs. “Haley seemed nervous about you,” she said to me. “I see why.”
    â€œI’m not Sherborn material.”
    â€œAnd thank God for that. It’s a dull little slice of paradise.”
    â€œRinn,” Randall said, crossing his legs. “What an interesting name.”
    â€œBetter than Brittania Whitney,” she said, staring at his plastic ankle.
    â€œBrittania?” he said. “Not Brittney or Brittany?”
    â€œBrittania Whitney,” she said. “Of the Wellesley Whitneys.”
    He made an exaggerated wince. “Rinn it is, then.”
    She laughed.
    They made merry eyes at each other.
    I rolled mine.
    I should say Randall is considered handsome. I’ve personally seen three strangers tell him he’s a dead ringer for that guy (they say, snapping their fingers), you know, the guy from The Wire, the one who’s a bad guy but you like him anyway. When Randall points out that half the cast fits that description and asks which one they mean, they get flustered—they don’t know how to distinguish one black guy from the next.
    Point being, he’s handsome.
    Rinn Biletnikov sure thought so.
    Yeesh.
    We sipped.
    â€œOut of curiosity,” I said, “why’d you want to meet with us? With me? You had no idea who I was.”
    â€œYou looked interesting. It gets lonely down here, Mr.…”
    I said my name and Randall’s. “Why are you down here?” While your baby’s up at the main house? I thought. And your nanny seems pissed about it?
    She said nothing.
    â€œWe came to talk about Gus,” I said. “Came looking for his father. Your husband, I guess.”
    â€œAbout?”
    â€œWe’re worried.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œYou hear about the shooting at Almost Home, his halfway house?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWe think they were trying to kill Gus, not the other kid.”
    She put a hand over her mouth. “What makes you say that?”
    Randall jumped in, telling her what hadn’t been reported on the news. That Gus and Weller looked alike. That Weller had been in Gus’s room when he was shot. He told her about Andrade, about Teddy Pundo and his pedigree.
    Randall told her so much I nearly kicked him. He was enjoying her attention, her focus. It was hard to blame him. Hell, I’d balance my Diet Pepsi can on my nose if it’d buy me a minute of that. Something about the way she looked at you. Like you were the most interesting man she would talk to all day.
    Randall’s story finally petered out. “So that’s about it,” he said. “We’re wondering if you or Gus’s father know about other problems Gus is having. Things he might be hiding from us.”
    â€œBefore he went to rehab,” Rinn said, taking her time, editing as she spoke, “Gus was on terrible terms with his father. Peter is the last person he would have confided in.”
    â€œHow about you?”
    She hesitated. Did her face flare red? She made a flitting gesture with her hand, but too late. “We were pals,” she said, shooting for breezy. “We were probably closer than most stepmoms and stepkids in this situation. Which is a tricky one, and that’s an understatement. But he never confided in me. We never talked about anything serious.”
    It was quiet awhile.
    â€œSo you met Gus a few months ago in AA?” Rinn finally said to me. “And that’s the … extent of your relationship? You’re certainly going above and beyond to help him.”
    â€œIt’s a tight group. I