Read Online Swann Songs (The Boston Uncommon Mysteries Book 4) by Arlene Kay - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Arlene Kay
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brilliant! How about a scholarship in Duff’s name for students interested in community activism?”
Much to Deming’s chagrin, Anika and I slapped hands in a girl power salute.
“I`ll contact Sonia tomorrow,” I said.
“And I`ll liaise with Dr. Paskert. Naturally, Sonia can take some of the credit,” Anika said. “In fact, we`d need her insights on Duff.”
“What about your ex-husband?” Deming snarled. “I don`t trust that guy one bit.”
“I guess we`ll use you as muscle,” I said. “You always wanted to be a bouncer.”
DEMING SULKED MOST of the day. Finally, he packed his briefcase and decamped to Sevier, Miles and Swann to catch up on neglected paperwork. Or so he said.
After exercising Cato, I spent my time in splendid isolation, plotting and scheming.
In austere times, universities were starved for donations. Hooking a fish—a whale—like the Swann Foundation would make Fess Paskert an academic rock star with Sonia as his backup singer.
Anika’s motives were simple. She was a willing partner, always up for adventure. However, Duff Ryder’s brutal murder resonated on another level with a mother like Anika whose daughter had been slain. A nudge from the Swann Foundation was a small price to pay for a further validation of CeCe.
I needed background on Duff, so I turned to that great repository of information, social media. She had a Facebook account, but it was a puzzler. Photos and friends’ listings were few, shielding information from prying eyes like mine. She had “liked” the websites of COWE, the Bella Brigade, and Wattpad but had never posted anything personal. Her reading taste was eclectic but predictable—Jane Austen, Emily Dickenson, and contemporary tomes by Betty Friedan, Germaine Greer, and Marilyn French. All in all, a portrait of a worthy, terminally boring young woman.
On a hunch, I clicked Wattpad and input Duff’s name. Nothing. I moved on to websites. The Bella Brigade was another dead end—posts rhapsodizing over Sonia and decrying lookism filled most of the site. Duff’s name appeared as an organizer and events scheduler.
COWE`s site was more informative. Duff appeared in several video clips, exhorting her fellow members to join the lookism crusade. This was a different side of the mousey young woman, and I was astonished at the girl’s vivacity. Maybe Sonia intimidated her, repressed her buoyant personality. One comment posted anonymously caught my eye. “Another stirring speech by Easy Ryder,” it said. I assumed it was a wry reference to the film of the same name rather than a dig at Duff’s virtue. Either way, it was worth scrutinizing.
I returned to Wattpad and keyed in Easy Ryder. Up popped a greeting, short story listing, and directory of followers. Apparently, Duff Ryder dabbled in fiction—short stories mostly—and was a contender for a Watty Award, the site’s highest honor. Her opus had an intriguing title: Worm in the Apple .
I clicked on the story and inhaled sharply. According to the synopsis, it was a novel of treachery and deceit in which a shrewd, poisonous young woman insinuated herself into the life of a VIP and proceeded to ruin it.
She had only uploaded three chapters—just a teaser. Those thirty odd pages mesmerized me, leading me down a twisted path. In true Internet fashion, I typed in the only appropriate phrase—OMG!
DEMING WAS CONTRITE when he returned. He planted a big goofy kiss on my cheek and offered to walk Cato as an additional penance.
“I acted like a jerk,” he said. “You don`t deserve that.”
“No harm, no foul. Besides, I need to pick your lawyerly brain.”
“Why stop at my brain? Pick any part you want, my love.” He gave a comic leer and hugged me tight. “I live to serve.”
I handed him the printout from Wattpad and waited. Deming reads quickly. He locked eyes with me and grimaced. “Wow! Hot stuff. I wonder who the worm in question is.”
“Nothing to speak of on Facebook, but I think Duff
Much to Deming’s chagrin, Anika and I slapped hands in a girl power salute.
“I`ll contact Sonia tomorrow,” I said.
“And I`ll liaise with Dr. Paskert. Naturally, Sonia can take some of the credit,” Anika said. “In fact, we`d need her insights on Duff.”
“What about your ex-husband?” Deming snarled. “I don`t trust that guy one bit.”
“I guess we`ll use you as muscle,” I said. “You always wanted to be a bouncer.”
DEMING SULKED MOST of the day. Finally, he packed his briefcase and decamped to Sevier, Miles and Swann to catch up on neglected paperwork. Or so he said.
After exercising Cato, I spent my time in splendid isolation, plotting and scheming.
In austere times, universities were starved for donations. Hooking a fish—a whale—like the Swann Foundation would make Fess Paskert an academic rock star with Sonia as his backup singer.
Anika’s motives were simple. She was a willing partner, always up for adventure. However, Duff Ryder’s brutal murder resonated on another level with a mother like Anika whose daughter had been slain. A nudge from the Swann Foundation was a small price to pay for a further validation of CeCe.
I needed background on Duff, so I turned to that great repository of information, social media. She had a Facebook account, but it was a puzzler. Photos and friends’ listings were few, shielding information from prying eyes like mine. She had “liked” the websites of COWE, the Bella Brigade, and Wattpad but had never posted anything personal. Her reading taste was eclectic but predictable—Jane Austen, Emily Dickenson, and contemporary tomes by Betty Friedan, Germaine Greer, and Marilyn French. All in all, a portrait of a worthy, terminally boring young woman.
On a hunch, I clicked Wattpad and input Duff’s name. Nothing. I moved on to websites. The Bella Brigade was another dead end—posts rhapsodizing over Sonia and decrying lookism filled most of the site. Duff’s name appeared as an organizer and events scheduler.
COWE`s site was more informative. Duff appeared in several video clips, exhorting her fellow members to join the lookism crusade. This was a different side of the mousey young woman, and I was astonished at the girl’s vivacity. Maybe Sonia intimidated her, repressed her buoyant personality. One comment posted anonymously caught my eye. “Another stirring speech by Easy Ryder,” it said. I assumed it was a wry reference to the film of the same name rather than a dig at Duff’s virtue. Either way, it was worth scrutinizing.
I returned to Wattpad and keyed in Easy Ryder. Up popped a greeting, short story listing, and directory of followers. Apparently, Duff Ryder dabbled in fiction—short stories mostly—and was a contender for a Watty Award, the site’s highest honor. Her opus had an intriguing title: Worm in the Apple .
I clicked on the story and inhaled sharply. According to the synopsis, it was a novel of treachery and deceit in which a shrewd, poisonous young woman insinuated herself into the life of a VIP and proceeded to ruin it.
She had only uploaded three chapters—just a teaser. Those thirty odd pages mesmerized me, leading me down a twisted path. In true Internet fashion, I typed in the only appropriate phrase—OMG!
DEMING WAS CONTRITE when he returned. He planted a big goofy kiss on my cheek and offered to walk Cato as an additional penance.
“I acted like a jerk,” he said. “You don`t deserve that.”
“No harm, no foul. Besides, I need to pick your lawyerly brain.”
“Why stop at my brain? Pick any part you want, my love.” He gave a comic leer and hugged me tight. “I live to serve.”
I handed him the printout from Wattpad and waited. Deming reads quickly. He locked eyes with me and grimaced. “Wow! Hot stuff. I wonder who the worm in question is.”
“Nothing to speak of on Facebook, but I think Duff
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