Force of Habit: A Falcone & Driscoll Investigation Read Online Free PDF Page B

rung on the ladder to success.”

The finale at last. Giulia waited for her cue, flute in her lap.
    This run of The Music Man appeared to be making a profit. The leads were just a mite too talented to stay in community theater. She’d heard “Marian” and “Marcellus” at rehearsals talking about the grind of trying to make it in New York. They had both tried and given up, and agreed that not having to land a part to pay the rent was infinitely better.
    “Zaneeta” and “Tommy” opened their mouths and chewed the scenery. The Marquee Theater had enthusiasm going for it, if nothing else.
    The Second Violin had great pecs. She could watch his bowing technique all night. The light on his music stand illuminated him from beneath at the perfect angle.
    Admiring men from a distance again. How safe. He’d brought an equally buff friend to the opening-night party. So she was probably admiring a gay man from a distance. Even safer.
    “Professor Harold Hill” raised his shackled arms, and the baby brothers of seven cast members put fake band instruments to their lips.
    Giulia played Beethoven’s “Minuet in G” a third lower than originally written. The Clarinet played it a fourth higher, the Saxophone in a different key. The kids tried not to giggle as they earned large aww s from the audience. Just like every performance.
    _____
    Frank caught her on her way to the exit. “You have to meet Yvonne.”
    She’d forgotten. “Right. Your groupie.”
    “Ssh! I’m not too sure about her sense of humor yet.”
    A leggy brunette with an off-center blonde streak waited in the second row. Now that’s a miniskirt. Gold lace on the hem and a blouse to match. A flower tattoo on her cleavage—Giulia didn’t look close enough to see what kind of flower.
    And here she stood in basic black jeans and T-shirt.
    “Yvonne, this is Giulia, my new partner.”
    Yvonne’s tiny smile revealed tiny, perfect teeth. “Um, hi. I thought you were Frank’s admin.”
    “Just got promoted. Nice to meet you.” That certainly wasn’t jealousy in Yvonne’s eyes. Just how frumpy did she look? “Gotta catch the ten-twelve bus. See you tomorrow night, Frank.”
    _____
    Denver and the Mile High Orchestra’s latest CD drowned out Giulia’s carpet sweeper. DMHO was her secret addiction, even though they weren’t Catholic. Her hardcore relatives wouldn’t approve, which made DMHO’s music the perfect complement: her hardcore relatives hadn’t approved of her since last August.
    Ten a.m. and all four rooms finished. Who said scandalous women couldn’t keep a clean house and a clean conscience? Stuff that in your white gloves, Aunt Assunta. I even dusted the top of the fridge.
    She carried a pitcher of water to the potted plants by the living-room window. “Hey, tomatoes. Nice flowers. Have a drink. Hey, basil, you’re limp. You have all the sun you need. Look at the parsley and oregano. They’re laughing behind your back. Shape up or you won’t make it into my next batch of sauce.”
    Time for coffee. Kona-macadamia blend sounded good today. Gotta love those three-for-a-dollar samples . The mail should be here by now, and the new issue of Cosmo was due any day. Every issue drove home the fact that she had so much to learn.
    As she walked down the first-floor hall back to her apartment, she shuffled through the envelopes. Junk, credit-card offer— as if , pizza coupon, cellophane-window envelope with Second Notice in the bottom corner. Oh, no. Did she forget to pay a bill?
    She closed her door and shut off the coffee. Pulling out a butter knife, she slit the bill.
    Other than her address and several brown smears, the paper was blank. And smelly. She put one of the smears up to her nose and sniffed. Excrement.
    “Ugh!” She dropped it on the counter. “What a sick joke.” Shielding her fingers with a napkin, she picked up the paper and envelope and threw them into the trash, then tied the bag in a knot.
    The twins on the second floor.