Pier Pressure Read Online Free PDF Page B

Jude Cardell. Gram hated facing the fact that Jude still lived on planet earth, let alone right here in Key West. She thought he should have stayed in Miami where we had moved shortly after our marriage. I thought so, too, and I still shuddered at the thought of him. Jude’s former violence warned me that in spite of all the judge’s reassurances, the court’s restraining order might be no more valuable than the paper it was written on.
    Following our divorce, my counselor had pointed out that Jude’s personality matched that of an abuser. Jude had wined and dined me and rushed me into marriage. I was so in love, or thought I was in love, that I let him manipulate me into doing whatever he wanted. His wish became my order. Then, once we were married and although I didn’t want to leave Key West, he insisted on moving to Miami, saying there were more job opportunities for him in a big city.
    The counselor said his insistence on moving followed the abuser pattern—take the woman away from family and friends. That makes it much easier to control her. And control is the name of the abuser’s game. In Miami, the wining and dining stopped and Jude’s insane jealousy started. He accused me of having affairs with everyone from our next-door neighbor to the greengrocer at the Winn-Dixie. Although we could have used another income, Jude didn’t want me to find a job: too many men in the workforce for me to flirt with.
    “Police many time suspect person finding body.”
    Gram’s words snapped me from my unpleasant memories of Jude and back to my unpleasant memories of Margaux’s body and Detective Curry’s questions.
    “I know. You needn’t remind me. The police have already made it clear that they consider me a suspect. Of course, Detective Curry also mentioned the possibility of suicide.”
    “Rotten deal for you to find body, Keely. Margaux spell trouble right from get-go. Lots of people think that, too. Who you suppose did her in?”
    “You’re jumping to conclusions, Gram. I saw no signs of a forced entry into the house. The door stood unlocked. I knocked and it swung open. It wasn’t even tightly closed.”
    “Then a friend do it to her. If door be unlocked—means she let someone in. Someone she knew. Why would such snooty woman do suicide?” Gram lifted her nose into the air, mimicking her idea of snooty. “She think herself above death. She no do the community such a grand service as suicide.”
    “Gram! Back off. Beau loved her. Our literary community respected her. I considered her a good client.”
    “Caramba!” Gram voiced her pent-up feelings and left my office as quickly as she had arrived.
    I jumped, startled as my talking wall clock announced twelve o’clock. Bad news travels fast. Shandy Koffan hadn’t arrived for her nine o’clock. Surely she must have known my office would be closed. Had the news blurb told who found the body? I should have asked Gram that question. Out of courtesy, I called Consuela to cancel her one o’clock and she answered immediately. I held the receiver at a distance to protect my eardrums.
    “Of course I’ve heard about Margaux.” Consuela always spoke in mega-decibels although I had assured her many times that I wasn’t hard of hearing. I held the receiver even farther from my ear. “Please expect no tears from me, Keely Moreno. None at all. Not even one little tear. That woman meant nothing to me—nothing but humiliations and put-downs.”
    “I didn’t call you seeking tears, Consuela. I merely called to formally cancel your appointment for this afternoon. I’m just not up to giving treatments right now, and I’m closing my office today in respect for Margaux and the Ashford family. I’ll be able to give you a make-up time tomorrow, Monday, at eleven.”
    “I dislike Monday appointments. You know that. I’ve told you that many times.”
    “Okay, if Monday doesn’t suit you, we’ll probably have to wait until Thursday.”
    “Why? Why not on