Leave No Stone Unturned (A Lexie Starr Mystery, Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

they have problem keeping weight on their frames. The
     type who'd say, "I can eat eighteen thousand calories a day and not gain an ounce,"
     while licking chocolate frosting off their fingers.
    Actually, Wendy has never been one to boast about her ability to eat like a rhinoceros
     and stay stick slim. She doesn't even nag me about my weight when I start building
     on layers of insulation every winter. That's just one of the things I love so much
     about her.
    To be honest, however, as envious as I was of her metabolism, I was sure Wendy would
     look more attractive with about ten extra pounds. When she's worn down, she looks
     haggard, and the gauntness in her face is even more pronounced, as it had been recently.
     She looked like she'd been under a lot of pressure, and I felt bad that I was about
     to add to her worries.
    "Hi, Mom. Come in and have a seat in the kitchen. I've just made a fresh pot of coffee.
     You look like you could use a cup."
    She must not have seen me doing cartwheels down her driveway. "Yes, dear, a cup of
     coffee would be wonderful," I said.
    "So, tell me, where are you going?"
    "Myrtle Beach, South Carolina."
    "Whatever for?" she asked, sipping her coffee.
    "T-to—to meet a man."
    "What? What did you say?" There was disbelief is her voice, as she spewed coffee across
     the kitchen table.
    As Wendy eyed me suspiciously, I popped several of my knuckles before I continued.
     "I'm meeting a very nice gentleman who lives there."
    "Whatever for?" Wendy asked again.
    Couldn't you make it easy for me, dear, and just nod your head in acceptance? I'm
     doing all this for you—to protect you.
    So please don't drag me through the coals over annoying little details, I said under
     my breath. My knuckles were already beginning to swell.
    I checked each of my cuticles and began to ramble. "Well, dear, as you know, I've
     been widowed for almost twenty years. I never felt you'd accept another man in my
     life, either as a substitute father figure to you, or as an object of affection to
     me. And I didn't particularly want to throw myself back into the dating scene anyway.
     But now that you're grown up and married, I've met a man I'm interested in and would
     like to get to know better. I can almost guarantee it won't go any further than friendship,
     but I want to give it a chance so I won't regret it later. I'm not getting any younger,
     you know. And it's kind of lonely for me these days."
    I stopped to catch my breath, and to get an emery board out of my purse to smooth
     out a jagged fingernail I'd just noticed.
    Wendy's mouth was hanging open in shock and dismay. I could read the thoughts flashing
     through her mind as if she'd spoken them out loud. My mother has taken leave of her
     senses. Dementia has set in. And she's lying about something. That much is obvious.
     Wendy turned her chair to face me and attempted to look me in the eye. I was too preoccupied
     with that jagged nail.
    "What's his name?" Wendy asked.
    "St-st-tone Van Patten." Here we go, interrogation time. Wasn't this intense questioning
     routine once part of my job description as her mother?
    "Stone? Did you say Stone? What kind of name is Stone?"
    Very much like Clay, if you really think about it, I wanted to say. What did it really
     matter what the man's name was?
    "He's a jeweler, honey, a highly respected jeweler, so I'm sure that Stone is just
     a nickname. His real name is probably something too common like Bill or Bob," I said
     defensively.
    "Where'd you meet him?"
    "On the Internet."
    She slammed her hand down with a vivid expletive. I jumped back in my chair in surprise.
     "You've got to be kidding," she shouted. "Are you totally nuts, Mom?"
    "No, I, er, he just—"
    "Mom, this world is full of weirdoes, whackos, and perverts. Are you aware of that?
     How old is he?" Wendy spat out "he" like it was another word for pond scum.
    I only knew Stone to be somewhere between puberty and social security, so I opted
     for a generic