Grave Intent Read Online Free PDF Page A

blue!”
    “Then use brown.” Janet checked the mirror
again. It puzzled her how quickly Ellie had snapped out of her
melancholy once they’d left the funeral home. They were no sooner
out the side door than she was back to her chatty, bouncy self. So
far Ellie hadn’t brought up another question about death, and Janet
didn’t press the issue. She had enough to handle with her unnamed
worry still chugging along at a decent rate.
    “What color was Mary’s little lamb?” Ellie
asked as Janet took a right on Union Street.
    “What, hon—oh, damn!”
    “Mama, you said the D word!”
    Janet winced. “Sorry.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “We’re almost out of gas.” Janet looked at
her wristwatch to verify the time illuminated on the dashboard
clock. She only had an hour to find leotards and get Ellie to the
auditorium. She glanced down again at the fuel gauge, which sat
flat against E.
    “Miss Vicky won’t care if we’re late,” Ellie
said. “She’s a good dancing teacher. When Lexie’s late, she doesn’t
get mad at her.”
    There was a convenience store with fuel a
block and a half away. Janet kept her fingers crossed they’d make
it that far. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, honey.” She looked back at
Ellie with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I just don’t
like being late.”
    “Why?”
    “Because.”
    The engine coughed, and the Caravan
shuddered, then jerked forward.
    “Oh, Jesus, please,” Janet begged. The store
was only half a block away now.
    “You praying, Mama?”
    “Yes, Mama’s praying.”
    “’Cause you don’t want Jesus to make you run
out of gas?”
    “Uh-huh.” Janet let the van coast into the
store’s parking lot and pulled alongside the nearest fuel island.
Exhaling loudly with relief, she switched off the engine and
fumbled through her purse for her Visa card. Once she found it, she
turned to Ellie. “Stay put, all right? I won’t be but a
minute.”
    “Okay, but I want to help pump the gas,”
Ellie said. She tossed her crayons on the seat and tugged at the
seat belt.
    “Not this time,” Janet said, already out of
van. “Next time maybe. Just finish the kitty for me.”
    Her daughter’s face crumpled.
    “You know,” Janet said. “I’ll bet Miss Vicky
would love a picture of a cat. Maybe she would even let you do a
show-n-tell, like in your kindergarten class.”
    Ellie’s face brightened. “What about I get a
real kitty? Then I could bring it for a real show-n-tell. Jason
brung his turtle—”
    “Brought his turtle,” Janet said as she
lowered the driver’s side passenger window, then closed her
door.
    “ Brought his turtle to school, and
everybody got to touch it. I want to bring . . .”
    Sticking her credit card into the payment
slot of the fuel pump, Janet nodded and said absently, “Um-hmm.
We’ll see.” She unscrewed the fuel cap on the van, shoved the
nozzle into the metal hole, then checked her watch again.
    “Then Casey brung her . . . brought her Beanie Babies after that. Her Beanies had clothes. Can I get
one with clothes, Mama? I want to get the . . .”
    “They sure can talk, huh?”
    Surprised by the male voice, Janet snapped a
look over her shoulder. A man stood on the opposite side of the
fuel island, thrusting a nozzle into a bright red Suburban. She
hadn’t heard his vehicle pull up alongside them.
    Smiling politely, Janet nodded. “They sure
do.” She looked back at the total registering on the pump display.
Not even five dollars yet. Today she had to pick the slowest
pump!
    She turned her head as though to study the
hood of her van and caught a peripheral glimpse of the man moving
closer to her. Janet squeezed the nozzle harder, trying to coax the
fuel through faster. The guy didn’t look dangerous. A bit over
middle age with a V-shaped patch of white hair on top of his head
and crooked, overlapping teeth. His sunglasses made it hard for
Janet to see his eyes. Dressed in gray slacks and a gray and white
striped shirt, he