Read to Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Sorry, ma’am, but . . .”
    â€œWe all have errands. I’m sure this won’t take too long.” Blondie Quinlin tried a peaceful approach.
    The door opened, and Frank Anthony walked in. Ryan took a giant step backward. “All these ladies were on the outing.”
    Glancing out the window, I saw several additional sheriffs’ cars and an ambulance in the parking lot. Oscar’s van was the epicenter of boundless activity. I raised my hand, because I was sure that if I spoke prematurely, Frank would accuse me of speaking out of turn, an accusation he’d made a time or two in the past. Of course still other times he blamed me for withholding information. Honestly, I couldn’t win with that man. To avoid even the appearance of conflict, I wanted to give him complete information as quickly as possible, even if I did look like a schoolgirl in need of a hall pass.
    He bobbed his head, which I presumed was permission to speak.
    â€œBridgy and Ophie were also on the trip with us.”
    He crossed his arms, never a good sign. “Where are they now?” His voice sounded like I’d let Bonnie and Clyde escape after still another bank robbery.
    And I answered, completely forgetting that the clubbies had no idea what had happened. “At the Treasure Trove. You see, Bridgy found the body—”
    The entire book club jumped from their chairs. Everyone started speaking at once, with noisy versions of “Body?” “What?” “Who?” “That can’t be.” It was their unique adaptation of “Liar, liar pants on fire.” I wanted to throw a pitcher of lemonade on them. That would quench their curiosity.
    Frank Anthony ignored them for the moment and instructed me to put the “Closed” sign on the door and to lock it for good measure, then he crossed the room with a powerful stride until he was nose to nose with the clubbies. He held up one hand, silencing them instantly. It occurred to me that I could have used him at some of the more rambunctious book club meetings.
    â€œLadies, there has been an incident in the parking lot. The driver of your tour van is being . . . cared for. I am sorry to inconvenience you, but it is imperative that you all remain here until my deputies have an opportunity to speak with you.”
    I was more than a little surprised he didn’t get the same back talk that Ryan was subjected to a few minutes earlier.
    There was a knock on the door. I stood, but Ryan waved me back into my chair and opened the door to a deputy I didn’t recognize. He stepped inside and spoke in hushed tones. “Tell the boss we’ve set up a perimeter. The medicalexaminer is on the scene, and the DOA will be transported to the county morgue as soon as the photographer is done.”
    It sounded like I was living in an episode of
Major Crimes.
If only Flynn and Provenza would come out of the kitchen squabbling while they chomped on purloined
Cubano
sandwiches. Then I’d know I’d hit the play button on the DVR and fallen asleep on the couch.
    Ryan nodded. “You better stay here for now. Control the door. Don’t let anyone in or out without the lieutenant’s say-so.”
    Miguel came out of the kitchen. “I straightened the kitchen. I have two apple pies in the oven. I can take them out in a few minutes. Then the kitchen will be ready.”
    â€œReady?”
    He read my blank stare correctly. “
Chica,
Ryan and Lieutenant Anthony are going to want to talk to all of us . . .”
    â€œUs? You weren’t even on the trip.”
    â€œBut I was here. Whatever went on, it happened right here after you got back from the museum. So they will want to talk to all of us. They will want privacy, and we have only the kitchen to offer. Unless you want them to use that cubbyhole you and Bridgy insist on calling an office.”
    I envisioned the oversized desk and chair cramped