An Adrien English Mystery: The Dark Tide by Josh Lanyon Read Free Book Online Page A

make chicken potpie just for you.”
    “I am home.”

    An Adrien English Mystery: The Dark Tide

    25

    “I know.” It was the tone of one humoring a crabby child. “But wouldn't you feel better in a house with other people than in this creepy old building where someone was murdered?”
    I sighed. “He was murdered fifty years ago, Nat. I don't think I'm in any danger.”
    “You don't know who that skeleton belonged to. You think it was the trumpet player the old guy was talking about. Maybe it was someone else. Maybe that murder was a lot more recent than you think.”
    I ignored the suggestion of wholesale slaughter in my home and hearth. “Did the locksmith show up?”
    “Yes. The new keys are on the table in the hall.”
    “What happened to that old guy, anyway? What was his name? Henry Harrison?”
    She nodded. “I think so. I don't remember. I think he wandered out again after your—
    Mel—arrived.”
    I didn't like the delicate inflection on my Mel. The legendary Mel, no less. God only knew what information Lisa had shared about my past. Not that it was much of a past, but it was my own, and I'd have preferred to keep it that way.
    “He didn't leave a card or anything?”
    She shook her head as she stooped to pick up Tomkins, who had wandered in. “Hello, bootiful boy. He looks so much healthier now, doesn't he, Mr. Tomkins?”
    I wasn't sure if she meant me or the cat. Probably the cat. I wisely remained silent.
    Mr. Tomkins put up with being cuddled with better grace than I did, although his eyes did slant my way in a silent appeal for aid when she started kissing his nose.
    “So what's the problem with the temporary help?” I asked.
    Natalie hesitated before admitting, “Well, as you may have noticed, there was no temporary help today. This is the third day she's called in sick.”
    “Tell the agency we need someone new.”
    “I did.”
    “And?”
    “The thing is, you've got sort of a reputation.”
    “I have?”
    “The bookstore has.”
    Oh . I considered this glumly. Yes, I could see where Cloak and Dagger Books might not win any Employer of Choice awards.
    “Let's try a new agency.”
    “I did. Several of them. I finally found one who said they'd send someone out tomorrow.
    Or at least they were going to try. Now I'll have to get them to postpone until we're open again.”
    I nodded, preoccupied. If I really wasn't going to be able to work—and admittedly, I'd felt ready to die with weariness by the time I'd dragged myself upstairs to rest that afternoon—we were going to need more help.
    Natalie let Tomkins down, and he sprang onto the bed and shook his head as though he'd been on the roller-coaster ride with me.

    26
    Josh Lanyon

    “Are you sure you won't come back to the house tonight?” she coaxed. “You'd make Lisa so happy, and you'd save Lauren a drive tomorrow, and Emma misses you so much.”
    “At the risk of seeming more ungrateful than I already do, I want to spend the night in my own bed.”
    She didn't like it, though she had to accept it in the end.
    Following Natalie's departure—after reciting the usual list of warnings people seemed to feel obliged to deliver to me—I felt relief—for all of an hour. Long enough to feed the cat, make myself a small dinner salad, and relax in front of the TV.
    Usually the Partners and Crime writing group would be meeting downstairs, but I didn't have the energy for it that night. Instead I watched TV and caught the tail end of the 1944 noir classic Laura , directed by Otto Preminger. Naturally that reminded me of Mel and his invite to the LACMA noir festival on Thursday. Thinking of Mel made me restless. I couldn't seem to decide if I wanted to go out with him or not. I was flattered that he'd asked, that he seemed to want to resume…friendship, at the least. There was a time I'd have given anything to believe he regretted walking out. Now I felt little. But then, I felt little, period. It had to be some lingering emotional