Murder On The Menu: The 1st Nikki Hunter Mystery (Nikki Hunter Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page B

video began.
    On the screen I saw Laura, dressed in a brown jumpsuit and wearing some kind of helmet. There was a parachute strapped to her back, and she was seated in what appeared to be the cargo hold of a small airplane. In spite of the helmet her long hair blew fiercely around her face as she leaned forward looking out the open door. The camera remained focused on Laura and a male companion who was similarly attired. The man was wearing goggles, obscuring his features.
    After a few minutes Laura put on her goggles and smiled at the camera, then stepped out of the airplane as casually as I get out of bed in the morning, although somewhat more gracefully. The man jumped out behind her and was closely followed by the person with the camera.
    During about thirty seconds of free-fall the camera remained on Laura. She was grinning wildly. Of course it was probably impossible to fall at a hundred and twenty miles per hour without the corners of your mouth reaching for your ears.
    I watched the video until Laura and her friend were safely on the ground. The tape ended before the guy took off his goggles, so I never got a look at his face. All I could say for sure was that he was above average height, and appeared to be in pretty good shape.
    I rewound the tape, took it out of the VCR, and tucked it into my purse.
    I glanced through the rest of Laura’s movie collection. It was predominately Disney, but included Miss Congeniality , You’ve Got Mail , and, of course, Titanic . She read romance novels, slept with a Shrek doll, and watched Disney movies. She also got automatic deposits from a local nudie bar. Human beings are riddled with contradiction, but what I was seeing here suggested that Laura fantasized about a return to innocence, at least while she was at home.
    I was tempted to snoop around the other upstairs rooms, but I’d already been there for two hours and I didn’t know who else might be home, so I retrieved the file of bank statements and went downstairs.
    I found Kate in the living room. She was gazing at a large flat panel TV, mounted above the fireplace. The home movie she was watching had been paused. On the screen I saw a younger Kate Howard, her arms around a chubby toddler who was gazing up into her mother’s eyes. Laura’s cherubic smile was indeed as Kate had described it; like the sun, shining adoringly on her mother.
    I felt my heart catch in my throat. What must it be like to have endured the loss of that child’s affection years ago, and now to live with no hope of ever reclaiming the perfect love they had once shared?
    I softly cleared my throat to announce my presence. “I’m finished,” I said.
    Kate slowly turned to face me. Her eyes had a faraway look.
    “I’d like your permission to take Laura’s bank statements and this skydiving video.” I took the cassette out of my purse and held it up.
    “Of course,” she said.
    “I noticed Laura didn’t have a computer in her room.”
    Kate smiled wistfully. “No. She refused Derrick’s offers to buy her one. I guess she was old-fashioned in some ways.”
    Laura might have been old-fashioned in some ways, but I didn’t think that was why she’d refused Derrick’s offer of a computer.
    I told Kate I’d be in touch. She walked me to the door and thanked me for coming. She sounded sincerely grateful, and I searched her face before stepping outside. I had expected to see grief in her eyes, but what I saw there looked more like guilt. She felt responsible for her daughter’s death, whether directly or indirectly. I’d have to dig into that eventually, if I took the case.
    I started up my little 2002, and drove to the bad part of town.

 
    Chapter 5

    I had driven past the Fanny Pack often enough to know where it was, but I was surprised to find the parking lot crowded at 12:30 on a weekday. Maybe they served a lunch buffet. I locked the 2002 and approached the front door, stepping around bits of broken glass and gummy patches on the