Read Online Wild Goose Chase by Terri Thayer - Free Book Online Page B

went up at the front door. He stood up to see what was going on.
    “Sweet. Lark Gordon in the house,” he reported. “Have you met her yet?”
    I looked where he was indicating. Over the heads of a barrier of people, I could see the elaborate pattern Lark’s tiny braids created on the back of her head.
    I shook my head. “I saw her earlier, talking to Claire. She’s got a show on cable, right?”
    “Yes, Wonderful World of Quilts. ”
    “I hear customers quoting her all the time,” I said. “Too bad she doesn’t have a way of letting the shops know what’s coming up on her show. My life is hell if she mentions a tool on the air that I don’t have in stock.”
    “I’ll introduce you and you can suggest it.”
    “Oh yeah, right. I’m sure she’s interested in what I have to say.”
    Freddy stood up and snagged Lark as she went past. I got out of my chair, and he introduced us. When Lark turned, I could see why she was a successful television personality. With her eyes on me, I felt like I was the only person in the room.
    “So sad about Claire. I saw you talking to her earlier,” she said. “She was a frequent guest on my show. We were good friends.”
    Good friends? It hadn’t looked like that to me. If that was true, then something had happened between them, because it was obvious that Claire hadn’t wanted to talk to Lark this morning.
    Lark peered into my eyes. “You might have been the last person to see her alive. Do you want to go on camera?”
    “TV?” I took a step back to break the intensity of her gaze. “No.”
    Freddy interceded. “Come on, Lark. Give the girl a break. She’s here trying to forget the events of the day.”
    Lark interrupted him. “How about getting me a drink, Freddy?”
    He looked at me. I waved him off. I could handle Lark. He headed for the bar.
    Lark said, “Your shop is Quilter Paradiso, right? That’s a great place. I don’t sew much, but since I started this job, I’ve become quite the fabriholic, buying tons of fabric I’ll never use.”
    “You’re not a quilter?” I asked.
    Lark reared back and laughed. Her laugh was a very girly giggle, at odds with her sophisticated exterior. “Can you keep a secret? I can’t sew, let alone quilt. I’m a journalist, although I’ve been working as a television personality lately.”
    “So how long have you been in this job?”
    “Five years.”
    “Is that how you met Claire?”
    A frown crossed Lark’s pretty features quickly, and then she composed herself. “Yes, she had a great interest in television.”
    How many pies did Claire have her fingers in? Was that what they had been arguing about? I could see Claire as a hostess of a quilting show. If she had lived, that might have been something she would have done.
    Lark looked around the room, playing idly with her earrings. They were large gold hoops, the size of a salad plate. She wore a gold necklace with a diamond at the neck and several charm bracelets. Rings, but no wedding ring. Her jewelry and her clothes looked expensive. A cable TV hostessing job must pay better than I thought.
    She sat down and leaned toward me. “How about the local news? I’ve got contacts in the local market. I’m sure I could get air time. We could probably get on the local early morning show, talking about Claire.”
    I shook my head vigorously. Lark settled back in the chair, with a pretty pout on her face. She turned away from me. Her eyes lit on Freddy’s back. He was leaning against the bar.
    “What’s he doing up there? Schmoozing the cute bartender?”
    When I didn’t answer, she asked, “Is your shop doing well?”
    I hesitated, then shook my head. “Not great. In fact, I’m looking for a buyer.”
    The noise in the bar suddenly abated as though the air had been sucked from the room. I felt eyes staring in my direction and looked up to see Myra standing at my elbow.
    Lark stood abruptly. “My condolences,” she said to Myra. “Tell Freddy never mind the