The Alpine Menace Read Online Free PDF

anyone,” she murmured. “No lights are on.” She tried the knob, but it was locked.
    “They've taken away the crime-scene tape,” I noted. “That's not a good sign as far as Ronnie's concerned. They must figure the case is closed.”
    “Mmm,” Vida responded, still trying to peer inside. “It looks as if there are some cartons on the floor.”
    I joined Vida at the window, but before I could get a good look, the door to 1-C opened.
    “It's not for rent yet,” a rumpled redhead in her early thirties said. “Next week, maybe. You got the landlord's number?”
    I started to deny that we were in search of an apartment, but Vida moved in front of me. “Why the delay?” she asked.
    “The place has to be cleaned out first,” the redhead answered, flicking cigarette ash onto the concrete floor. A TV was making disjointed noises from inside her unit. “It's only a one-bedroom. You sure you and your daughter are interested?”
    “It's not for me,” Vida replied, not exactly lying. “We understand that a murder occurred here.”
    A tiny twitch at the corners of the redhead's full lips indicated that the fact somehow pleased her. “Yeah. A couple of weeks ago.” She shrugged. “Mr. Chan, the landlord, told me that you have to tell people when somebody gets killed. You know—future tenants and all that.”
    I decided it was time to step out from behind Vida's shadow. “That's sort of gruesome, though,” I said, trying to sound chummy. “Who got killed?”
    The full lips twitched again. “Her name was Carol Stokes. Her boyfriend did it. I ought to know—I heard them fighting just before it happened.”
    “Really,” Vida said, sounding impressed. “Did the police interview you?”
    “Yeah, a couple of times.” The redhead tossed her cigarette into an empty planter, which had obviously served as an ashtray on previous occasions. “It's tough on him, but I had to tell the truth, didn't I?” Her blue eyes widened in an attempt at playing the innocent bystander.
    “Of course,” Vida said, tipping her head to one side. “You knew the couple, I take it?”
    The redhead nodded emphatically. “Yeah. They were always fighting. Carol was the kind who liked to argue and all that.”
    “You must be Ms. Swafford,” I said, remembering the name on the mailbox for 1-C.
    “Right,” Ms. Swafford replied, holding out a hand that sported two long acrylic nails and three short, natural ones. “Maybeth, to you. Hi.”
    “I'm Mrs. Runkel,” Vida said, “and this is Emma.” She tugged me forward. “How nice to meet you.”
    “You want to come in?” Maybeth asked, gesturing at the living room.
    “Why, thank you,” Vida said. “Just for a minute. We're on our way to supper.”
    The lack of neatness in Maybeth Swafford's apartment obviously disturbed Vida. She sniffed the air, which smelled of cigarettes, burned food, and acetone. She frowned at the furnishings, which appeared to have been sold as discount floor samples. She used her toe to push aside a
TV Guide
that was lying on the littered floor. She grimaced at the television screen, which was showing a sitcom I didn't recognize.
    Maybeth must have followed Vida's gaze, because she turned off the TV and indicated we should sit on the lime-green couch. We did, and it sagged beneath our weight. Our hostess, who was dressed in tight slacks and a T-shirt proclaiming MY OTHER BUST WAS FOR DRUGS , curled up in a plaid recliner.
    “It must have been frightening to realize you'd probably heard your next-door neighbor being murdered,” Vida said with a shudder that may or may not have been feigned.
    “Well, I didn't know she was being murdered then,” Maybeth replied, picking up an acrylic nail from a small plastic tray. “I just thought they were having another fight.”
    “That was…” Vida gazed up at the ceiling. “When?”
    “Umm…” Maybeth also gazed at the ceiling. Maybe there was something there I'd missed; all I could see were a few dangling