Death Comes eCalling Read Online Free PDF

I haven’t gotten any threats,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m also doing a consulting job for a company owned by the husbands of two of your classmates. They didn’t report anything of the sort. I’m going to go down and tinker with your software, if you don’t mind.”
    “No, go ahead. Thanks.”
    He was already down the stairs by the time I’d finished speaking. I glanced at Lauren, who was staring into space. We sat down. She declined my offer of iced tea or lime Jell-O. I asked, “Whose husbands are he referring to?”
    “Stephanie’s and Denise’s.”
    “Denise stopped by a while ago. Is she divorced?”
    “No, but I’ve lost track of how many times she’s called to ask me if her husband’s having an affair. She thought since he and Steve were working together I’d know. As if Steve would tell me something like that, even if he was privy to it.”
    Perhaps I’d just found a motive, albeit bizarre, for a classmate to send me hate mail.
    There was a weighty pause. Lauren was chewing on her lower lip, a nervous habit whenever she was upset. She was probably just frustrated with the long hours Steve put into his work, but this wasn’t the time for me to inquire.
    “Are you going to the PTA meeting tomorrow night?”
    She smiled faintly. “No, I avoid those things like the plague. But I’ll watch the kids while you go. Be sure and say hi to Jack Vance for me.”
    “I can’t get over the thought of Jack Vance as a principal. Bet that keeps attendance among mothers pretty high at meetings.”
    “What do you—” Lauren stopped, then chuckled. “You haven’t seen him in a while. Well, I won’t spoil it for you.”
    “Uh-oh. He’s not drop-dead handsome anymore?”
    She gave me a sly grin. “He’s not exactly bad-looking. He’s just not the Vance. Too bad, too. He’s single again.”
    Lauren hopped to her feet as Steve trudged up the stairs. “I’ve got a couple of possible IP addresses for the computers that might have been used to send the emails. Let me look into it, and I’ll get back to you in a few days.”
    “Great. Thanks.”
    He still hadn’t cracked a smile. Lauren and he seemed to be avoiding any eye contact. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that I used to get as a child whenever my parents argued.
    “Listen, Molly,” Lauren said, “you’ve had a big shock. How about if we watch the kids for a couple of hours?”
    “Thank you. That’s really nice. I’ll send them over after dinner.”
    They left, and I set about fixing supper. Meal preparation was one advantage to having an absent husband. My culinary skills had diminished to nonexistent once my children’s vocabulary expanded to include the word Yuck. That had been my son’s first word. At least with Jim gone I didn’t have to witness his attempts to mask his disappointment over dinner.
    We ate pork chops, macaroni and cheese, and lime Jell-O so I wasn’t depriving my children of their greens. As I ate, I sketched an idea for an employee-departure card: a cigarette-smoking black cat wearing a collar labeled Socks, his white paws banging away at a typewriter as he thinks, “I’m at least as talented as the former First Dog.” The caption read: Best of Luck in Your Future Endeavors.
    Nathan balked at the idea of going to Rachel’s house a second time in the same day, complaining the girls always played Barbie and he was sick of the role of Ken. Karen promised this time they’d play Mommy, Daddy, and Baby Trucks, and that won him over.
    I wasted my hard-earned “unwind” time grocery shopping. While struggling to learn the layout of the unfamiliar store, I stumbled upon the greeting card section. Time to play the plagiarism game, a monthly exercise in self-torture to find out if I’d accidentally copied someone’s design and was about to be sued. My technique was to scan the cards while squinting, to check for any designs that looked like mine without actually reading any.
    That accomplished, it