A Crossword to Die For by Nero Blanc Read Free Book Online Page B

but also a total disinterest in anything remotely athletic, and skin so deeply tanned it looked cured like leather. He wore a T-shirt dotted with rust and paint stains, shorts that had probably once been blue canvas, and rubber flip-flops whose thongs were the color of grape jelly.
    â€œWho are you?” His terse speech matched his appearance. This was clearly a man who didn’t believe in standing on ceremony.
    â€œIf you’re looking for Debbie, she’s not here. I’m Dr. Graham’s daughter, Annabella … Belle. And you are?”
    Instead of responding to her question, the man regarded her curiously. Belle thought she noted a fleeting twinkle in his eye—almost as if he were happy to see her. But the expression vanished so rapidly, she decided she’d been mistaken.
    â€œTed around?”
    â€œNo … No, he’s not.” Belle hesitated; she intuited that this man and her father had been more than passing acquaintances, and she wasn’t sure how to break the difficult news. “You’re … you’re a friend of my father’s?”
    â€œYou might say that.” The man rocked on his flip-flops; they made a scrunching noise on the concrete passageway: a combination of rubber and small shards of stone or shell.
    â€œAnd your name is?” Belle put out her hand.
    The man shook her hand for the briefest of seconds, then resumed his hesitant silence as if wondering whether or not to relinquish his identity. “Folks call me Woody.”
    â€œWell … Woody … I’m down here because my father … because my father died on his way up North to visit me …”
    Woody didn’t utter a sound, but the sudden stillness of his body told Belle he found the news very disturbing. She searched his face, and watched an emotion too fleeting to successfully categorize pass over it. Anger? she wondered. Or betrayal? Then she remembered what Sara had said about grief assuming various guises.
    â€œMy … Father was on the train—”
    â€œAnybody with him?” The question was abrupt, suspicious. A scowl matched the tone.
    â€œNo … Well, other passengers, of course … But no one he knew, or we would have learned of Father’s death the moment it occurred. A conductor discovered—” Belle stopped herself. There was no need to burden this man with the grim details. “Apparently heart attacks can happen like that.”
    â€œYour father was healthy as an ox.”
    â€œI’m sure he looked that way, but he complained that his back was often—”
    Woody snorted. “The back? Huh, just didn’t like to do what he didn’t want to do …”
    Belle didn’t respond. Supposedly, the “bad back” had kept “Ted” Graham from attending her wedding. Finally, she said, “Would you like to come in for a minute? I’m sure my news can’t be easy to accept—”
    â€œAhh, no … No time.” Woody began backing away.
    â€œBut I’m sure Father would have wanted you to—”
    â€œMaybe I’ll see you around.” Woody glanced at his watch, but the move seemed overly presentational. “Gotta run.”
    â€œIs there somewhere I can reach you …? I mean, perhaps you can tell me other people I should contact. I’m afraid I don’t know who Father—”
    â€œI’m late … I’ll be in touch.”
    â€œBut I—”
    Woody was gone before Belle had time to protest further. She walked to the corridor railing and looked down into the condo complex. There was not a trace of the man. Not a sound of footsteps, not a car door opening or engine starting. Belle closed her eyes. Why did she find the discovery of strangers in her father’s life so disturbing? What had she expected? Even if her father had discussed his relationship to Woody and Debbie, even if he’d described them in meticulous detail, why