Dying for Dinner Rolls Read Online Free PDF Page B

to pace the white-tiled kitchen floor accented with red, matching the red-and-white-checkered tablecloth.
    “What are you implying?” José said.
    “Things are not right.” I glanced around the kitchen. Nothing seemed out of place. Yet everything felt askew.
    “Have you tried that back door?” Annie Mae pointed to a closed door near the rear of the kitchen leading to a mudroom.
    “I’ll check it out.” José strode to the back.
    He turned the handle and swung open the door.
    Lucy lay on her back on the lime-green linoleum floor, dark red blood pooled around her left arm. Her wrist was slit open. A kitchen butcher knife lay near her right hand.
    I screamed.
    “Holy shit,” Annie Mae said.
    “Oh my.” Bezu’s color drained from her face as she leaned against the kitchen table.
    My knees buckled under me. I felt contents of my stomach lurch into the back of my throat.

Chapter Four

     
    José checked Lucy’s vital signs. “She’s dead.”
    I knelt down and held Lucy’s cool hand. My heart raced, and my stomach flipped. Had the crossword killer struck again? No. Lucy said that the paper was already in the box before she’d purchased it. It couldn’t be the same killer, could it?
    Grabbing a kitchen towel, José picked up a folded piece of paper. “There’s a note.”
    “What does it say?” Annie Mae asked.
    José opened the white paper. “One side is from someone named Ina Nesmith. That’s her neighbor you mentioned, isn’t it, Cat?”
    I nodded.
    José continued. “It says ‘Back off, Lucy, or else. —Ina.’ The other side, written in what looks like pink lipstick, reads ‘It’s over. Lucy.’” José put the note back on the floor where he found it. “This appears to be a possible suicide note. But then again, Ina’s note could be construed as a threat. Either way, no one touch anything. This is now a crime scene.”
    “Why would she kill herself? She was happier than a pig in mud.” Bezu sat down in a chair as she pressed her hand to her chest.
    “Hell if I know.” Annie Mae pulled a chair next to Bezu at the kitchen table. She reached over and patted Bezu’s hand.
    “I’m calling my precinct right now.” José held his phone to his head.
    I paced the floor as though my legs couldn’t stand still. Filling the room with floral scent, so light and alive, was a vase of fresh-cut flowers sitting in the middle of the kitchen table.
    “Lucy had been gone less than two shakes of a lamb’s tail. How could this happen?” Bezu rocked herself.
    José held a hand up. “Everyone sit tight. Help is on the way.”
    I wiped tears with the back of my hand. My taste buds wretched with the taste of bile. I tensed with raw nerves as a chill ran down my spine. And yet, I felt numb.
    A short while later, two squad cars and an ambulance arrived. For the next few hours, the house buzzed with activity. Police forensics and EMTs began doing their work. José talked with them as they took pictures, dusted for prints, secured the area, filled out reports, walked through the house, and strung yellow tape. We were all interviewed as witnesses. Bezu, Annie Mae, and I sobbed the whole time.
    After I composed myself, I walked to José just as a detective approached him.
    The detective pointed a thick finger at José. “This is my case. Back off.”
    “Listen here, Ray. The vic is my friend. It’s not suicide.” José shook his head. “I’d just seen her right before she left to grab dinner rolls. She was fine. And what about the note left? You need to interview Ina Nesmith.”
    “Don’t tell me how to do my job.” Ray stood face-to-face with José and poked him in the chest. Ray stood an inch shorter than José but had a stout, thick build and a blond crew cut. “This is my case.”
    José’s neck flushed as he leaned toward him. “Then do this by the book. No shortcuts.”
    “You’re not my boss. Scarcely my peer.” Officer Ray didn’t budge. “A suicide note, a knife in the vic’s hand. I