A.R. Winters - Valerie Inkerman 01 - Don't Be a Stranger by A.R. Winters Read Free Book Online Page A

vegetables on his butcher’s block – our tiny apartment’s counter space was all taken up with the microwave – and started chopping. “Of course I asked. She said they were cool.”
    I rolled my eyes. He was just like those naïve young girls who slept with older married men who were “separated,” “getting divorced,” or “in an open relationship.”
    “Ok, so then what? Start from when things started to go wrong. What’re you making?”
    “Stir-fried Asian vegetables and honey-soy drumsticks. Oh, I’d better put them in the oven first.”
    I smiled. Nobody in New York cooked. I’d moved straight from my parents’ house to college, then to New York, and I didn’t cook. Not unless you counted the microwaved chocolate pudding I can make in an emergency. So it was fun to live with someone who cooked for a change. And it was nice, being able to eat something other than greasy Chinese takeout.
    When he was done putting things in the oven and fiddling with the temperature, Jerry said, “It was all going great . You know, the whole ‘doing it in secret’ thing is such a… anyway. I thought I heard footsteps coming into the room, and I told her–”
    “Are you ever going to tell me her name?”
    Jerry made a wry face. “If she’s not going to help, I might as well leave her out of it.”
    “Are you kidding me?”
    “Look, there’s no point in you trying to talk to her. If she lied to the cops, she’ll lie to you.”
    He had a point. Still… a strange doubtfulness crept into my mind. “What if this whole thing’s an elaborate conspiracy?” I said slowly. “What if this woman saw you talking with Esme and then she took you upstairs to set you up? And then someone – some accomplice – crept into the room and killed Esme, and the two of them framed you for it.”
    Jerry shook his head, and turned back to his vegetables. “That doesn’t make any sense. To start with, how’d she know that I’d agree to go upstairs with her? And then how’d she be so sure that I’d try to keep her out of it?”
    “Well…” I looked at Jerry uncertainly, but I could see the doubt creeping into his eyes too. “What’s her name?”
    “Anita. Anita Lowe.”
    “Ok.” I nodded. “That’s a start.”
    “No, it’s not,” Jerry said desperately. “That’s no place to start. She’s not going to be any help and you’ll just waste your time with her.”
    “Ok,” I said. “I’ll talk to her later on. After…” I frowned. “Who else do I need to talk to? Hang on, wait here.”
    I disappeared into my bedroom and returned with a pen and a pack of index cards.
    “What’re those?” Jerry said, as I settled down and started making notes. “Your Nancy Drew case notes?”
    I finished writing down what Jerry’d told me so far, and sighed. “You’re not meant to be making fun of me. You’re supposed to be eternally grateful that I’m looking into this for you.”
    Before Jerry could come up with some smart-alec retort, I said, “So. You were saying. You thought you heard footsteps.”
    “Yeah – so I motioned to Anita, and we both froze.”
    “And?”
    “Well, someone was in the room. At least two people. They were having a conversation, but they were talking really softly. I could tell that one of them was a woman, but I wasn’t sure about the other. So Anita and I just stood there, waiting for them to leave.”
    “But they didn’t.”
    “No. And then, I heard a soft bang. And then another two.”
    “And after that?”
    “Well, I waited a few more minutes, then cracked open the closet door.”
    “But did you hear anything else?”
    Jerry shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. After the bangs, it was silent for a while. We figured whoever came in must’ve left.”
    “But you didn’t hear windows opening, or anything like that?”
    Jerry shook his head, and looked at his chopped-up vegetables, satisfied. While we’d talked, he’d cut them into tiny slivers. “No, no windows