3 Mascara and Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

fault. It's not my fault that some hairdresser went nutso either, maybe she inhaled too much hair dye, whatever!” she stomped her foot, which was encased in an exquisite, expensive shoe, against the ground. “It's my birthday, and I shouldn't have to deal with this!”
    Morris sighed and wiped his hands across his cheeks before he spoke again. “ We can’t have your guests contaminating evidence,” he warned her. “There are still too many questions to be answered.”
    “What questions?” Annabelle demanded. “The woman was caught strangling the poor girl, what is there to question about that?”
    Bekki felt sick to her stomach as she walked around the corner of the house. If Annabelle kept proclaiming Sammy's guilt it was going to be even harder to prove otherwise. Bekki had hoped that Annabelle might be a bit of an ally since Sammy had once been her babysitter. But apparently anything that interfered with her birthday celebrations was a problem.
    When Bekki reached the small garden beneath the window of the dressing room, she noticed something in the soil behind some bushes. When she looked closer, she could see that it was a shoeprint in the damp dirt. It looked much too large to belong to a woman, but that was not always easy to judge. As she leaned in closer to take a picture of the shoeprint, she realized that whoever was standing there, probably Phillip, was trying to hide. He would have been standing in the mud behind some bushes, which would make it almost impossible for people to see him from the front of the house and difficult for them to see him from the back, too. Whoever he was talking to must have been someone he didn't want anyone to see.
    As she glanced up she caught sight of some boat shoes on the back deck. Since Phillip was the only man in the house she assume d they belonged to him. She snatched up one of the shoes and carried it back to the shoeprint. Very carefully she laid it beside the shoeprint in the mud. It was the same length. Then she turned the shoe over and studied the tread on the bottom of it. The tread seemed to match the indentations left in the soil by the shoeprint. She snapped a photograph of the bottom of the shoe also. Then she heard voices.
    “Excuse me, but you will need to lower your voice,” Detective Williams' crisp and clear voice carried from the driveway. Bekki's eyes widened. She knew she would be in serious trouble if she was caught around the side of the house. She had no excuse for being there. Feeling a little panicked, Bekki hurried across the back porch hoping that the sliding glass door beside the pool would be unlocked. Carefully she tested it. Luckily it was open, and she was able to step inside. Carrying the makeup case she hurried down the hallway back towards the front door. She opened it just as Detective Williams was turning the knob.
    “What do you mean you let her inside?” she was barking at Morris.
    “Oh just for this,” Bekki explained as she held up the makeup case. She held it high enough to attempt to shield herself from Detective Williams' furious glare.
    “Get out of here,” Detective Williams' snapped at her. “Morris, let's go, let's get this cleared out,” she announced.
    “Cleared out?” Bekki asked as she moved past her to exit the house. “What do you mean?”
    “We're closing down the crime scene,” Detective Williams explained in a clipped tone. “We have all the evidence we need.”
    Bekki opened her mouth to tell her about the shoeprint, but to do so, would be to admit that she had been snooping around. She was fairly certain that Detective Williams was itching for the chance to put her in handcuffs.
    “You know that Sammy didn't do this,” Bekki challenged the detective, her eyes shining with fury.
    “I don't know that, Bekki,” Detective Williams said sternly. “All I do know is what the evidence tells me, and so far, we have the right person in jail. You might be able to con Nick and Morris, but I am not them.