Deadly Descent Read Online Free PDF Page A

story?”
    It was a smooth ploy. Asked abruptly that way, I responded in kind.
    “Frankly, an exposure of their family’s vicious prejudice. If the press ever got hold of it, there’s no way Brian could convince voters he didn’t share those attitudes.”
    Sam thoughtfully rubbed the side of his large Roman nose. “Knowing Fiona, if she thought it could hurt Brian, she’d be livid.”
    “Actually, I think Fiona shared her sister’s attitude toward blacks and was blind to the damage it would cause Brian. Something else set her off.”
    “No idea what?”
    “None whatsoever. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. How’s Max taking it?”
    “Hard. Already had enough on his plate with health problems, then his old hardware store got Wal-Marted.”
    “And Fiona? She okay?”
    “Don’t know.” His mouth tightened. “I had to work the scene. I sent Betty Central over to break the news to the Hadleys. She hasn’t called me yet. You know how short-handed we are, Lottie,” he said, seeing the look on my face. “I have to work with what I’ve got.”
    Betty Central’s mean, loud mouth could turn a missing pencil into a four-star crisis. It was hard to imagine anyone less sensitive, less appropriate, to break this kind of news to a family.
    Sam flushed. “I’ve put ads in the paper, Lottie. Asking for part-time help. Not many people are dying to be in law enforcement, and this county operates on a shoestring. People go to work for us, they have to buy their own guns.”
    He slapped his hands on his knees and stood.
    “At least we have a clearer picture of time, thanks to you.”
    I walked him to the foyer.
    When I went back into the family room, Elizabeth was seated at the piano, raging through a complicated piece. Her hands faltered. She rose, ran to Keith, and sobbed on his shoulder.
    “What’s wrong, Elizabeth?” I asked. I looked over at Josie, who was sitting very still, cuddling Tosca. Her eyes grave, professionally alert.
    “The last time I saw that meddling old fool was when Mom died.”
    Josie rose and walked toward father and daughter. She patted Elizabeth on the shoulder.
    “Can I help? Lottie’s told me your mother died tragically. When you were just thirteen?”
    Elizabeth spun around, dislodging Josie’s hand.
    “Tragically? Like in an accident? A car or something? No, Ms. Albright, we’re the suicide’s kids. Didn’t you know that?”
    Josie blanched. “No. I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Elizabeth. Still, I
am
here this weekend. Perhaps it would help you to talk about it.”
    “It won’t, and even if talking would help, I doubt I would have much in common with a shrink driving a Mercedes.”
    “I want you to apologize to my sister at once, Elizabeth.”
    Then she turned on me.
    “Or for that matter, a lady whose idea of real life is working with dusty old manuscripts analyzing the lives of people who lived a hundred years ago.”
    “Elizabeth! That’s enough,” Keith thundered.
    Then this thirty-nine-year-old woman who Wonder-Womaned around Denver, unbattering women and tying up gang members in Byzantine legal procedures, ran from the room like a heart-broken adolescent.
    I couldn’t breathe. The muscles in Keith’s jaws jerked. He watched Elizabeth’s flight up the stairs like he wanted to call her back. Make her say the right words. His great hands dangled at his sides as if they were on the end of clay clubs.
    Tears welled in Bettina’s eyes.
    “So sorry,” she said. “I’ll see what I can do.” She hurried after Elizabeth.
    Josie sat back down on the sofa, terrier tense, ready to spring.
    Keith walked over to his violin, carefully loosened the tension on the strings, put it back into the case. He placed it in the storage cupboard. When he had calmed himself, he turned to face her. He suddenly looked every bit twenty years senior to me.
    “Josie, you have my sincere apology for this miserable evening. I’m very sorry.”
    She nodded at him. Smiled gently.
    “I’ll