Relative Malice Read Online Free PDF

notebook. She’d talk to Betty Ruffalo again, but later, when she was more clear-headed and had different questions.
    “I think that’s all I need for tonight, Betty. Thanks for talking to me.” She handed Betty one of her cards. “Please, call me if you think of anything that might be important.”
    The restaurant had the “closed” sign turned toward the street when Kendall left Betty’s office, eager for the night air to sharpen her senses. The empty dining area had a TV mounted in the corner, set to a local station; breaking news showed a building in flames, surrounded by fire trucks.
    Dear God, the setting looks familiar . It was the motel where Kendall had been staying.

4
    The Rat Pak, situated in the middle of a string of five businesses, sat on a side street abutting a wooded bluff. It was located only a short distance from the Chippewa River, which divides downtown Eau Claire. The building, mostly dark brick and limestone block, looked like it had been ensconced at the foot of the bluff since the beginning of the previous century. A hair salon on one side and a dry cleaner on the other hugged the tavern. A bead shop and a check-cashing place followed from the salon toward the corner. There were no lights on in the aging homes on the other side of the street.
    Kendall drove past, noticing only two cars parked in front of the tavern. She turned around where the street dead-ended at the edge of the bluff. An apartment recommended by her uncle wasn’t high on her list of ideal residences, but with the motel closed, it wasn’t like she had a lot of immediate choices. Determined to bring a quick resolution to her living situation, she parked and walked toward the bar.
    A dark figure stepped out from an unlit doorway next to the tavern as Kendall approached the door; in a heartbeat, she whipped out her gun.
    “Kenny, put the gun down—it’s me!”
    “What the fuck are you doing here?”
    Kendall’s former roommate stepped out of the shadows. “It’s good to see you, too.”
    Linda Johnson, now known as Natalie Drake among the Chippewa Valley theatre set, stepped out of the shadows. Nat wore a dark leather jacket and a black knit cap pulled over her waist-length, ebony hair. Ghost white in the dim streetlight, her face still bore the heavy makeup she wore in The Bride of Frankenstein , her latest thespian project.
    Kendall holstered her gun, thinking how on edge she must have been to react the way she had. “You scared the crap out of me. What do you want, anyway? I got your message, Nat, loud and clear. Stuffing all my things in the car while I was at work? Real mature.”
    “I’m sorry, Kenny. I shouldn’t have done that.”
    That was an understatement. “How did you find me?
    “I was coming home from the theater and saw your car drive by. I wanted to talk to you, so I followed you here. I want you to come back.”
    “Come back? You know it wouldn’t work. We don’t want the same thing.”
    “We could go back to how it was.”
    “I don’t think that’s possible, Nat.”
    Natalie took Kenny’s hands in hers. “I am sorry. Promise me that you’ll consider it, anyway. I hope you’ll still think of me as a friend.”
    Kendall had known Nat was gay when she agreed to be her roommate. She’d liked Nat and convinced herself many people of the opposite sexual persuasion were successful roomies. It had worked well for a long time; Nat was gone most evenings and Kendall days, so they seldom overlapped. Until the night Kendall went out with Nat and her theatre friends to celebrate the success of her latest play. In an alcoholic haze, Nat made a pass when they came home, and foolishly, Kendall spent the night in her bed. For Kendall it had been a spur of the moment, liquor-induced, sensual experiment, but Nat had perceived it as a beginning.
    The next morning Kendall had to spell it out for her, and the message hadn’t been well received. When she came out of work that afternoon, she found her car