Aurora 07 - Last Scene Alive Read Online Free PDF

his lap in the process.
    “Hello, Aurora,” he said, and in that moment I recognized him.
    “Hello, Barrett,” I said, trying hard not to sound as anxious and angry as I felt. It was all I could do not to blurt out, “What do you want?” At six feet, Barrett was tall enough to cow me, and of course he was fit, since looking good was part of his stock in trade. His hair was a new color, a dark blond, and he was wearing glasses he didn’t need.
    It’s an accurate measure of our relationship that I wondered, just in a flash, if Barrett had come disguised so no one would recognize him in the police lineup after my body was discovered.
    “I didn’t know you were in Lawrenceton,” I said, my voice much more shaky than I liked.
    “Oh, yes. And I came to see you first thing, Stepmom.”
    So it was going to be that way.
    As if it had ever been any other way.
    “Barrett, what are you doing here?” I was not stable enough emotionally to put up with all this parrying.
    “Just wanted to come check in on you, see how you were enjoying my dad’s money,” he said casually. The actor. I wondered how often he’d rehearsed tossing that line over to me.
    I sighed. I considered several responses, most based on my new policy of rudeness, but a sudden deep exhaustion quenched anything I might have said.
    “Frankly, Barrett, I don’t enjoy much of anything.” My voice was as weary as I felt. It was time to speak plainly, and end this if it was possible. I stepped back and said, “Come in, if you have to, and say whatever you have to say. I’m sorry we misunderstood each other so badly after your father died. I just wasn’t at my most intelligent or sensitive.”
    Barrett’s face was already arranged to say something witty and cruel. But there was a subtle shift in his expression as he listened. He nearly relented, but at the last second his grievance settled back on his shoulders like a cape. “Did your lawyer tell you to say that?” he sneered.
    I could think of no response. “Do you want some coffee? Have you had breakfast yet?”
    When in doubt, fall back on being a lady, as my mother had always advised me—though truly, it would feel better to kick Barrett in the butt.
    Once again, Mother was proved right. Barrett had no idea how to pose himself. “I’d like a cup of coffee,” he said after an appreciable pause. “I take it black.” He looked around the kitchen with almost palpable surprise. What had he expected—marble countertops and a resident chef? It was just an ordinary kitchen. I got another cup from the cabinet and buttered my English muffin, which had popped up.
    “So, what are you doing here in Lawrenceton?” I asked. “I guess you came to visit your dad’s grave? I got the headstone in about four months ago. It looks real nice.” I took a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to repress the tears that welled up. I grabbed a tissue and blotted my eyes. I glanced over at my stepson as I put his coffee on the table, to surprise a look of shame on his face.
    “You didn’t even think of going out to the cemetery,” I said out loud. I was truly stunned.
    “He’s not really there,” Barrett said, scrambling for a defense. He sat down at the table and looked sullen.
    “No, of course not,” I said numbly. I put half my muffin in front of Barrett. “And I know I shouldn’t have spent so much time out there at first, but somehow you just want to be close ... I know that’s stupid.” I shook my head. I could feel the trembles and weepies looming, like unpleasant relatives due for a visit.
    Barrett was staring at me like he’d never seen me before. He took a sip of his coffee.
    “You’ve lost weight,” he said at last.
    I shrugged. “Maybe a little.” It was my turn to drink some coffee. My eyes ached with tears.
    But this, too, would pass. “I suppose your check got to you all right?” Martin’s will had finally been probated; of course, money was at the root of Barrett’s