Dial Emmy for Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

was so young. She still remembered him and had recently started asking a lot of questions about her daddy. I want her to have a father. I’m just not so sure her biological dad is the best candidate for the job.
    Anyway, I told him I needed to think about things and to call me back in a couple of days. Would he go to prison? I wondered. I guess that would depend on what his other clients did. I wasn’t the only one he took money from. In any case, it would probably be minimum security for a few months, maybe a year, since it was a white-collar crime. Would he want shared custody? I didn’t think I could stand that. So I promptly changed my number. I needed a few days to think and I had this invitation to the family reunion. Knowing I couldn’t make it, I bought a couple of plane tickets for my mom and Sarah—just in case Randy tried contacting her. I never mentioned it to anyone, not even my mother. The two of them being gone for a while gave me a chance to think.
    I looked around and saw Flipsy Dog and his brother, Flipsy Doggy—Sarah’s toys we had gotten from an outdoor vendor at the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. I picked up Flipsy Dog and smelled him, hoping to get a little Sarah. No luck. Flipsy needed a bath. He smelled like stale peanut butter. I held onto him tightly and went to the phone to check my voice mail. Hopefully my ex hadn’t gotten my new number. Thank God only Paul had called. He was on location with the TV show he was serving as consultant for, and he had seen the awards on TV.
    “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, honey,” he said. “I’ll try to call again tonight, but we’re doing a night shoot and there’s no signal out there.”
    I wasn’t sure where “out there” was. All I knew was that he was in Canada, somewhere near Vancouver, and would be for several more weeks.
    “I’ll try to call again when I get back to the hotel,” he said. “Meanwhile, call me there and leave a message. I need to know you’re okay.”
    I really didn’t feel like talking to Paul at that moment. I wasn’t sure I could keep the guilt out of my voice—even though I had nothing to feel guilty about. Not technically, anyway. All I’d done was talk to Jakes. Okay, so it was a little more than talking, but not really. A little flirting, maybe. Not even. But I felt sure Paul would hear something in my voice.
    I chanced it and was relieved when I had to leave a message on voice mail. I simply told him I was okay and would talk to him soon.
    I called my mom next, hoping Sarah would be sleeping because of the time change. I knew Mom would be worried. Naturally, she’d watched the show.
    “Alex,” my mother said, “don’t get involved again.”
    “Mom, I have no desire to get involved. Only if it’s pretend and I get paid a lot of money for it.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “Mom, is Sarah okay? Did she see the show?”
    “Thank heaven she fell asleep before it started. That would have been too traumatic!”
    “You’re right, thank heaven for that.” I felt lonely. And sad. And a little scared. “I really miss you guys. Give her a big kiss for me and make sure she gets lots of veggies tomorrow, okay? Tell her if she doesn’t eat her fruits and veggies, she won’t poop and her tummy will hurt. That always does the trick. I’ll call back in the morning. . . . I love you.”
    “I love you, too,” she said. “Alex . . . stay out of trouble.”
    I peeled off my gown and jumped into a nice hot shower. I watched the water pool and then spiral down the drain. Blood followed. Jackson’s blood. I shivered and found myself welling up. I let the hot water wash my tears away. For the first time since I’d seen his dead body, I let myself feel for him. He was just a kid.
     
    I blearily grabbed for the phone, knocking it off its cradle. It was only five a.m.
    “Mommy, I saw a possum. . . . He looked like a giant rat.”
    There were a lot of possums in the Midwest, along with