A Misty Mourning by Rett MacPherson Read Free Book Online Page B

stared down at me, as if she was waiting for the real reason.
    â€œOkay, I was hoping that maybe you would share some gossip with me.”
    With that she smiled and motioned me into her room with a wave of her arm. She walked over and opened the window thatfaced the river and picked up her cigarettes on the nightstand. “Sorry,” she said as she lit the cigarette. “I know you’re pregnant and all, but there’s a dead body slowly decaying directly above me, and I think that this calls for a cigarette. I’ll try and blow it out the window.”
    â€œI appreciate that,” I said.
    She inhaled deeply, causing the end of the cigarette to glow bright red-orange, and then she flipped her long silky blond hair behind her shoulder and smiled. “So, somebody finally offed the old lady.”
    I tried not to let my surprise register on my face, but I don’t think I did a very good job.
    â€œPeople in this valley have been waiting for Clarissa Hart to the for thirty years,” she explained.
    â€œThis is good,” I said. “I came to you for gossip, and it looks like you have no qualms about talking.”
    â€œI can’t tell you everything I know, because then I’d have nothing left for my story,” she said and blew smoke directly out the window. She held the cigarette so close to the curtains that I just knew at any minute they would go up in flames.
    â€œSo, you
are
searching for a story,” I said.
    â€œOh, I’m not searching for anything. I’ve got my story. I just have to prove it,” she said.
    â€œProve what?” I asked.
    â€œWhy should I tell you?”
    â€œWell, partly because if Clarissa was murdered then I’m the number one suspect in a homicide, by the simple fact that I was found in the room with a dead body. I’ve never been a suspect in a homicide before. I was sort of hoping—”
    â€œHoping to solve the mystery yourself?” she asked. This time she sucked the smoke up her nostrils, and I wondered if that was worse for her than the initial smoke, since, technically, she would be getting both first- and second-hand smoke. I was enthralled with this,much as I’m enthralled with people who can blow smoke rings. How do they become so talented?
    â€œWell, yes, actually,” I answered finally.
    â€œAsk me a question, and I’ll try to answer it to the best of my ability,” she said.
    â€œWho is Norville Gross?”
    â€œI haven’t the foggiest idea,” she said. “Obviously somebody important. Or at least important to Clarissa. People come out of the woodwork when there is money to be given or money to be had.”
    Okay, fair enough answer. “What’s the story on Edwin?”
    â€œOh, dear sweet Edwin. The prodigal son returns. He was actually pronounced dead once. During the Korean War. He came home walking alongside his coffin,” she said. “Never married. No children, that he claims, anyway. Knows every shortcut there is to being the richest man in the world.”
    â€œSo, then why isn’t he the richest man in the world? Or is he?”
    â€œBecause he is the only one who believes it. He spends money he doesn’t have. He files bankruptcy every ten to twelve years, like clockwork. A complete loser.”
    Pretty much what I thought of him, actually. “What about Oilier
    â€œHe seems on the up-and-up.”
    â€œAnd the others? Lafayette and Maribelle?”
    â€œLafayette is a sweetie. Simpleminded, no great education, mind you. But he has a heart of gold and was a decorated soldier in both Korea and Vietnam,” she said. She’d finally had enough of the cigarette and put it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. “Maribelle is never what she seems.”
    â€œHow do you mean?” I asked.
    She shrugged. “She tries to come across as this person who is deeply concerned about others. She likes for people to believe that