Read Online Stay Tuned for Murder by Mary Kennedy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mary Kennedy
Ads: Link
again, Sherlock.” A male voice, low and husky, with a sexy undercurrent that made my heart go flip-flop. I recognized the voice immediately, that sultry tone with a teasing edge could belong to only one person.
Rafe Martino.
“How’s that?” My heart was thumping in my chest, but I tried to sound casual as I glanced over my shoulder. I grabbed my tote bag off the front seat, closed the car door, and took my time pushing my sunglasses on top of my head before I turned to face him.
We were standing just a few feet away from each other, and I felt a wave of emotion body slam me. Rafe was wearing a black T-shirt and dark denim jeans and looked like a million bucks. Life is unfair. It isn’t standard cop attire, but he’s a detective and often works undercover, so I guess he can wear whatever he wants.
Rafe and I have an on-again, off-again history, but my traitorous hormones always kick into high gear when I’m standing this close to him. It’s like he’s putting out pheromones that draw me back into his web. Is he even aware that he’s doing it? I’ve often wondered about that. Something about the sexy little smile that plays over his lips tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“It looks like you’ve gotten yourself involved in another murder, Maggie,” he said lightly. “You’ve heard about Althea Somerset, right?” I nodded and he went on. “Vera Mae tells me you were the last person to see her alive. I’d like to hear more about that.” A smile, coaxing, played on his lips.
I decided it was time to set him straight. “What Vera Mae said isn’t quite accurate, Rafe. I was one of the last people to see her alive.” For a homicide detective, he was remarkably casual about his choice of words. Or maybe he was being deliberately obtuse, trying to throw me off guard, something he enjoys doing from time to time.
“There were at least thirty people at the historical society last night,” I continued. “And a handful of them were chosen to actually get up onstage and participate in the séance. But you probably know all this, right?” I said, goading him a little.
“Of course. I have a copy of the guest list,” he said in that maddening way. “Luckily Althea asked people to sign the register at the door. And Vera Mae filled me in on which guests Chantel chose to sit at the table with her. I know Althea was one of them. In any case, Duane and I plan on interviewing every single person who was at the historical society last night. And a few other people who might have knowledge of the case.”
“Really? Other people?”
Rafe shrugged, not willing to give anything away. “Duane is checking out some collateral contacts for me.”
“Have they established the time of death?”
“The coroner is still working on that. It could be late last night or early this morning. Duane is going to call the medical examiner’s office for an update.”
Officer Duane Brown is a freckle-faced rookie cop whom I secretly call Opie because he’s a dead ringer for that kid from Mayberry. He barely looks old enough to get a library card, much less carry a gun.
Rafe rubbed his hand over his jaw, looking thoughtful. “But since you were right there last night, in the thick of things, I thought I’d start with you. And Chantel Carrington, of course. I figured I could talk to both of you at the same time. Vera Mae told me Chantel was coming into the station today.”
“Really? That’s news to me. She doesn’t have a show scheduled.” I thought for a moment. “Maybe she’s hoping to cash in on some publicity for herself,” I muttered. “That’s exactly the kind of thing she would do. She probably thinks of Althea’s death as a golden opportunity. It might even create some extra buzz for her new book.” It would also boost my ratings the next time she appeared, but I decided not to point that out to him.
“Is that a fact?” His eyes narrowed a little at the corners, and I could see the wheels
Rafe Martino.
“How’s that?” My heart was thumping in my chest, but I tried to sound casual as I glanced over my shoulder. I grabbed my tote bag off the front seat, closed the car door, and took my time pushing my sunglasses on top of my head before I turned to face him.
We were standing just a few feet away from each other, and I felt a wave of emotion body slam me. Rafe was wearing a black T-shirt and dark denim jeans and looked like a million bucks. Life is unfair. It isn’t standard cop attire, but he’s a detective and often works undercover, so I guess he can wear whatever he wants.
Rafe and I have an on-again, off-again history, but my traitorous hormones always kick into high gear when I’m standing this close to him. It’s like he’s putting out pheromones that draw me back into his web. Is he even aware that he’s doing it? I’ve often wondered about that. Something about the sexy little smile that plays over his lips tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“It looks like you’ve gotten yourself involved in another murder, Maggie,” he said lightly. “You’ve heard about Althea Somerset, right?” I nodded and he went on. “Vera Mae tells me you were the last person to see her alive. I’d like to hear more about that.” A smile, coaxing, played on his lips.
I decided it was time to set him straight. “What Vera Mae said isn’t quite accurate, Rafe. I was one of the last people to see her alive.” For a homicide detective, he was remarkably casual about his choice of words. Or maybe he was being deliberately obtuse, trying to throw me off guard, something he enjoys doing from time to time.
“There were at least thirty people at the historical society last night,” I continued. “And a handful of them were chosen to actually get up onstage and participate in the séance. But you probably know all this, right?” I said, goading him a little.
“Of course. I have a copy of the guest list,” he said in that maddening way. “Luckily Althea asked people to sign the register at the door. And Vera Mae filled me in on which guests Chantel chose to sit at the table with her. I know Althea was one of them. In any case, Duane and I plan on interviewing every single person who was at the historical society last night. And a few other people who might have knowledge of the case.”
“Really? Other people?”
Rafe shrugged, not willing to give anything away. “Duane is checking out some collateral contacts for me.”
“Have they established the time of death?”
“The coroner is still working on that. It could be late last night or early this morning. Duane is going to call the medical examiner’s office for an update.”
Officer Duane Brown is a freckle-faced rookie cop whom I secretly call Opie because he’s a dead ringer for that kid from Mayberry. He barely looks old enough to get a library card, much less carry a gun.
Rafe rubbed his hand over his jaw, looking thoughtful. “But since you were right there last night, in the thick of things, I thought I’d start with you. And Chantel Carrington, of course. I figured I could talk to both of you at the same time. Vera Mae told me Chantel was coming into the station today.”
“Really? That’s news to me. She doesn’t have a show scheduled.” I thought for a moment. “Maybe she’s hoping to cash in on some publicity for herself,” I muttered. “That’s exactly the kind of thing she would do. She probably thinks of Althea’s death as a golden opportunity. It might even create some extra buzz for her new book.” It would also boost my ratings the next time she appeared, but I decided not to point that out to him.
“Is that a fact?” His eyes narrowed a little at the corners, and I could see the wheels
Similar Books
