Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries Box Set Nanci Rathbun (i love reading books txt) š
- Author: Nanci Rathbun
Book online Ā«Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries Box Set Nanci Rathbun (i love reading books txt) šĀ». Author Nanci Rathbun
I set the tray on the table and started to pour the tea, asking each if they wanted milk or sugar. Bart took four sugarsāyech, syrup, not tea. Tony took his cup, walked to a sideboard, and poured a healthy slug of brandy into it. Then he raised the bottle to us in an unspoken question. We declined.
Tony collapsed into his chair, took a long drink, and looked at Bart. āSo youāre saying itās hopeless? Even though I didnāt do it?ā
āItās not over ātil itās over, Tony. All Iām saying is that it looks bad.ā
āWell, I aināt making no deal with the DA. I didnāt do this, Bart. And if they send me up, I got a lotta enemies in prison. I wonāt make it out.ā
Tonyās street kid origins were busting through his sophisticated businessman persona. As he spoke, Gracieās mouth opened in a sickening imitation of Munchās The Scream. I frowned at Bart and rolled my eyes toward Gracie. He got the message. āWhat Bart hasnāt said,ā I interjected, in the hope of raising Gracieās spirits, āis that Iām looking into other areas of Elisaās life. There must be a reason for the murder, and if the cops are only looking at Tony, they wonāt find it. So I will.ā I set my mug on the table.
Gracie leaned over and took my hand. āOh, Angie, do you think you can?ā Tony straightened up and waited for my answer.
āIāll do my very best. Iāve cleared my calendar of all my other cases. If itās out there, I can find it.ā Maybe, I added mentally. But what else could I say? Gracie was close to her due date, and I could see the strain in her face and hear it in her voice. It was bad enough when she thought her man was cheating on her, but now she was afraid that heād spend the rest of hisāand herālife in prison.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the two men exchange a look. They knew, and I knew, that evidence doesnāt always exist to prove innocence or guilt, and that people do get wrongly convicted from time to time. But like me, they were willing to put up a front to reassure Gracie, so we did the shoulder-punch attagirl go-get-āem routine and I promised to stay in touch.
As I drove away, I kicked myself mentally for being twenty kinds of a fool. What if I didnāt find anything? What would Gracie do if Tony went to jail? When would I learn to keep my mouth shut?
Chapter 9
Family life itself, that safest, most traditional, most approved of female choices, is not a sanctuary: It is, perpetually, a dangerous place.
āMargaret Drabble
It was almost nine oāclock when I got home. I scanned the collection of junk mail from my āpublicā box in the building lobby. My personal mail goes to a rented box at a private service center. Itās more secure, and they can sign for packages, so itās also more convenient. I ran all the unopened envelopes through the shredder, poured myself a tot of Baileys, kicked off my sandals and sank down on the couch. The sun had set and the lake was dark. The streetlights along Lincoln Memorial Drive outlined the shore far below me, like twinkling fairy lights. I took a small sip of Baileys and opened the folder that Bobbie gave me. Was it only four hours ago? I was dead tired, but I knew that I wouldnāt be able to sleep until Iād reviewed the material and decided on the next dayās plans.
I scanned Elisaās employment records from Dunwoodie. There were some promising leadsāher address when hired, her next of kin, two references. The print started to swim on the page, so I tossed the folder on my coffee table and leaned back against the soft leather of the couch. I closed my eyes and tried to relax with some yoga breathing. My brain refused to cooperate, flashing images of Gracie and the kids on visiting day at the prison, then Elisaās bloody police photos.
The phone rang, releasing me from the grisly scenes. Caller ID showed āSchroeder, K.ā It was Kevin. Lovely, sexy, funny Kevin. I wasnāt in the mood to be lovely, sexy or funny back. I picked up the receiver and said, āHello.ā
āHi, Angie. Itās Kevin.ā His voice, a pleasant baritone, usually sent a little frisson of pleasure down my spine. Not tonight.
āHi, Kevin. How are ya?ā I knew my voice sounded flat and uninviting, but I just couldnāt make the effort.
āGood.ā He paused. āYou sound tired.ā
āI am. Itās been a bad two days. The Belloni/Morano case. Did you see it on the news?ā
āYeah, I did. Whatās your involvement?ā
āIām working for Belloniās lawyer, Bart Matthews. Trying to prove Tony innocent. At least, innocent of the murder.ā
āI didnāt know you did that kind of work, Angie.ā
āItās not my usual assignment. But I know Gracie Belloni, and Bart asked me to help.ā
āIs it dangerous?ā
The question hung there while I pondered my answer. Was Kevin being protective, or just curious? I decided to
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