Motion for Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

signed CFA in the file. No exceptions, no negotiations. His brand of legitimized theft had bought him a house once featured in Contemporary Living Digest . Of course, the photo layout had omitted the indoor/outdoor swimming pool in the master bedroom, probably because Dougie had been too busy schtupping the photographer to show it to her.
    Paige's eyes glazed over. "Hilary told him she wished he was dead. It was ugly. Even Howard ran for the back door." Followed by Wally, no doubt. Paige dropped the CFA and the empty cup. "I think I might quit. That woman scares the hell out of me."
    "You don't want to quit," I said, although I couldn't think of a single reason why. Quitting sounded pretty good.
    "That's easy for you to say. You haven't even dealt with her a year." Paige shuddered. "Maybe I can put my desk in the basement. No one would bother me in the basement."
    "There are no windows in the basement," I said.
    "I don't need windows."
    "Plus there are spiders."
    "Maybe the basement isn't a good idea," she said. "Do you think they'd let me move upstairs?"
    "I don't think so," I said. "Look, how angry could she be? They went out to lunch, didn't they?"
    Paige shook her head. "She stormed out of here alone, screaming about going to see a divorce lawyer. Dougie left the building with that Bambi person to try to smooth things over." She caught my frown. "Victoria Plackett."
    Oh. "So where's Missy?" I asked.
    Paige rolled her eyes upward, which either meant heaven or the second floor. Since I didn't think Hilary was quite that powerful, I took it to mean the second floor, so I headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. I half expected to find Missy curled up in the fetal position in a corner somewhere, but instead I found her in Dougie's office, rifling through his desk with an urgency unmatched since Dougie's ill-fated experiment with sushi.
    I hesitated in the doorway, watching her slam the kneehole drawer shut and yank open one of the side drawers. Papers rustled as she rummaged around inside then pulled out a single blue sheet. It looked like the sort of inexpensive faux-marbleized stationery available at any office supply store, but it was clearly something more than that to Missy. She took a second to read it over before folding it in thirds, her mouth drawing downward.
    I was wishing I'd stayed downstairs at my desk, or even in the basement with the spiders, when Missy noticed me. "Jamie!" She slid the drawer shut with her leg, her cheeks reddening a little. "Boy, did you miss a show." She tucked the sheet into the pocket of her skirt.
    "So I heard." I leaned against the doorframe. "Paige is still recovering."
    "She got the worst of it." Missy came around the desk "Hil was in rare form today. Come on, let's get back to where we drones belong."
    "What were you looking for?" I asked.
    "Huh?" Missy glanced back at the desk, then out the window, then down at her feet. "Nothing. I wasn't looking for anything."
    "Okay. Then what'd you find?"
    "Just something Dougie wanted me to follow up on. No big deal." She flashed a weak grin. "There's nothing here for me," she said, and I got the feeling she wasn't talking about Dougie's desk. "Let's go."
    I followed her toward the stairs thinking Dougie Digits sure made life complicated for a lot of people.

 
CHAPTER SIX
     
    The rest of the day was business as usual. Howard came back from lunch and left fifteen minutes later for a two o'clock deposition with Wally in tow. Ken's door closed shortly afterward and stayed that way until four o'clock. Dougie's two-thirty appointment came in and left a half hour later, followed shortly by Dougie. All of which left the three of us free to get our work done in peace. It was just like a normal office, if you forgot about Adam Tiddle and Hurricane Hilary's visit and Dougie's new commercial debut. If you couldn't forget about those things, it was just the calm before the next storm.
    At four-thirty, Donna crept down the stairs clutching a sheaf