Death Through the Looking Glass Read Online Free PDF Page B

inside. Rocco went immediately toward the overturned chair and knelt by the spot on the floor.
    â€œIt could be blood.”
    â€œYou’ll get a lab crew out here?”
    â€œFor what? We don’t know that a crime has been committed.”
    â€œTom has disappeared.”
    â€œHas he? We don’t know that for sure. You received a phone call, and he wasn’t where he said he would be. Hell, he could have been drunk, run off with a girl friend, gone back home … anything.”
    â€œI think you’re wrong,” Lyon said, as he began a tour through the house. A book on the Salem witch trials lay open, face down, on a coffee table. In an ashtray next to it was a pipe with ashes still in the bowl. In the small kitchen, separated from the living room by a bar, he noted a used frying pan on the stove and a plate with silverware in the sink.
    It was obvious that the first bedroom had been the one occupied. A man’s valise stood in the corner, there were shaving implements in the bathroom medicine chest, and a woman’s pants suit was wadded in a corner by the closet. A copy of yesterday’s newspaper lay neatly folded on the dresser.
    â€œWe had better secure the house and go back to bed,” Rocco said from the doorway.
    â€œThere isn’t anything you can do?”
    â€œNot now. But I’ll give Karen Giles a call first thing in the morning.”
    â€œDo it now.”
    â€œThe phone’s out.”
    â€œWhen you get home.”
    â€œO.K.,” he said tiredly. “And if there’s anything to report, I’ll call you.”
    Lyon sat on a high kitchen stool and stared into the water bubbling in a saucepan on the stove. He didn’t really want instant coffee, and he knew he was merely finding an excuse to stay awake in case Rocco called. His friend’s handshake and his mumbled “I don’t know” as he walked from the car to his door haunted the last vestiges of the night. As he slid from the stool and reached into the cabinet containing the jar of coffee, the door opened.
    â€œI thought I heard someone in here,” Robin said.
    â€œCup of lousy instant?”
    â€œPlease.”
    He was startled by her appearance as he turned to hand her a cup of coffee. “You sleep in that thing too?”
    â€œThe bikini?” She laughed. “I was so tired when we got home that I just fell across the bed. Then, a while ago I thought I heard a car and was wide awake.”
    â€œI had to go out for a while.”
    â€œI guess I really should take it off.” She carefully set her coffee cup on the counter and stood before him as she reached behind her back to undo the bra straps.
    â€œIf she takes off a stitch, I’m going to kill her,” the soft voice said.
    Lyon turned to face Bea. She was wearing her lumpy terrycloth robe and furry rabbit slippers, and her closely cropped hair straggled over her forehead. “Hi, Bea. I hope we didn’t wake you?”
    â€œYOU WHAT?”
    â€œI think I’m sleepy again,” Robin said and ran for the stairs.
    â€œTom Giles called and said he was in trouble. Rocco and I went out to his lake house. Well, actually I went first and …”
    â€œYou aren’t for real.” She turned and left.
    For a moment he looked after his retreating wife, his lips pursed into a low “Oh, boy.” Then he bounded up the stairs after her.
    She lay huddled on the bed with her face turned toward the wall. “I think I can explain,” he said.
    Bea turned, plucked the small hearing aid from her ear, and threw it at him. “DON’T BOTHER!”
    It was 10:00 A.M. before he was sufficiently awake to go to the study and sit before the typewriter. He looked down at the partially completed manuscript and wondered how the sagacious Danny Dolphin would solve Lyon’s marital problem. Robin had come out onto the terrace below the window, spread a blanket, and was