A Job to Kill For Read Online Free PDF Page B

Jack, following my gaze. “Want to try it on?”
    “Well, I’ve had a tough day so I deserve a splurge,” I said. “But I’ll hold off on the diamonds. Maybe a mocha Frappuccino at Starbucks.”
    “Big spender,” said Jack.
    We smiled at each other, and then he turned serious.
    “Okay, Lacy. Matter at hand. I got the full story about Cassie Crawford from the cops. What do you know that they don’t?”
    “A lot,” I said briskly.
    Jack looked around, but the store was mostly empty. An attractive Asian couple studying antique tea sets stood too far away to hear us—and we weren’t as interesting as nineteenth-century pewter, anyway.
    “Something doesn’t add up,” I said, speaking softly and quickly. “She knew about a chipped frame on the Rothko in the study before we got anywhere near the room.”
    Jack wrinkled his brow. “I’m not following.”
    “Cassie said she hadn’t been to the apartment since they bought it. The Rothko arrived two days ago. Unless she had a private ghost whisperer, she’d been there since.”
    Jack took in my news, but seemed unimpressed. “It’s her place. No crime in stopping by.”
    “Right. So why was it such a secret?”
    “Maybe she wanted to check out what you’d been buying.”
    “I asked her half a dozen times to come over with me. She had no interest. Zilch.”
    “She could have been cheating on her rich husband,” said Jack, “but I don’t really see that. Drug orgies or wild parties?”
    “Who knows,” I said. “But here’s the other thing. Somebody put a few bottles of Kirin iced tea in the refrigerator. Cassie gave me the credit and made a big deal that Roger must have tipped me off how much she liked it. She drank one down in one chug.”
    Jack sighed. “Now I’m fully confused. You think she snuck into the apartment and put Kirin in the fridge?”
    I shook my head. “Bigger problem. She didn’t put the tea there. Somebody else did. I’m pretty sure the tea was poisoned.”
    Jack jerked back, catching himself on the big glass jewelry case.
    “It didn’t hit me right away,” I said, continuing, “but when I replayed the day in my head, I realized everything about her changed right after she drank the bottle.”
    “Did you tell that to the police?”
    “No.”
    Jack looked at me. “We’ll have to, so they can test it.”
    I pinched my lips together. “When they find out it was poisoned, who gets blamed?”
    Jack took a moment thinking about it. He got my drift.
    “Murder needs opportunity and motive,” Jack said carefully. “You had the opportunity, but that’s it.”
    “I don’t know if Roger had motive,” I said, “but when he showed up, he rang the bell. The cops had left the door open, but he didn’t just come in. I had the sense he wanted everybody to hear that he didn’t have keys.”
    “Let’s get some facts before we speculate,” said Jack, suddenly every inch the lawyer.
    Ali came back with an elegantly wrapped package and discreetly took Jack’s American Express card.
    “Gina’s going to be thrilled,” I said as we waited for the transaction to be finished.
    Good old Jack. I looked longingly again at the bracelet inside the case. If I mentioned it to Dan, he’d probably tell me to buy it. But nah. Given my allergies, the diamond daisies would probably make me sneeze.

Chapter Four
     
    M y cell phone started pulsing at 6 A.M. , announcing an incoming message, but it didn’t wake me. I’d already spent an hour culling through fabric samples for a client who wanted ginger-colored upholstery. She’d previously rejected sixteen different silk swatches, and so far this morning I’d come up with fourteen more possibilities. But I didn’t like a single one. Whether the labels said ginger, carrot, or tangerine, the fabrics looked orange. Good enough to eat, but all wrong for dining room chairs. Unless you expected to spill a lot.
    After scanning the message, I texted back and then went downstairs to the kitchen.