Aurora 08 - Poppy Done To Death by Charlaine Harris Read Free Book Online

over to Melinda and Avery’s, because it was Poppy’s club day.
    Poppy asked me if I was going to be home on time today, because she was thinking of fixing pork chops for supper. She didn’t often feel like that.” For a minute, John David’s mouth twisted. “She took Chase in to brush his teeth; he doesn’t have many, so it just takes a second.”
    He clamped his lips shut, and his eyes, too, holding the memory in or blocking it out—I wasn’t sure which. “Poppy said since she didn’t have to get ready until nine, she might get back in bed and snooze awhile longer. Since I was taking care of Chase this morning, I had to leave at seven-forty-five to get to work before nine, so I had to go then. I put Chase in my car—we’ve got a car seat in both cars— and I dropped him off at my brother’s house. You know Avery and Melinda?”
    Bryan Pascoe nodded. “I’ve met Avery,” he said. “Go on.”
    “I talked to Melinda for a minute. Avery had already left for work. Melinda was worried because the sitter was late, and she couldn’t leave the kids alone long enough to shower. I drove into Atlanta to work, usual terrible traffic. I got to work right at nine. I worked until about eleven.” His faced reddened. “Then I told them I was feeling sick and needed to go home, so I drove back to Lawrenceton. I didn’t go home. I went over to Romney Burns’s house. She’d taken the afternoon off, too. I’ve been there ever since I got back to town, which would have been about eleven-forty-five, give or take a little. Traffic was a lot lighter coming back.”
    This was certainly a simple-enough account.
    Bryan took John David through the morning’s activities and their timetable once more, quickly. Maybe the contrast was clearer because John David and I were so stunned, but I had to admire the lawyer’s clarity and focus.
    Then Bryan took my hand, much to my surprise. “And you, young lady,” he said gravely, though I was sure he was only a year or two older than I, “tell me what your part in all this was.”
    Once again, I told him a compressed version.
    “The Uppity Women,” he said with a smile. “My ex-wife is an Uppity Woman.”
    By that time, he was shepherding us into the building, and I took a step back. “I’m not going in,” I said.
    “Of course, you need to get back to the family,” Bryan Pascoe said, his voice warm and understanding, but his thick blond eyebrows flew up.
    “I need not to go in here with him,” I said emphatically, though unclearly. “I’m a widow,” I pointed out, and though John David still looked dazed and uncomprehending, Bryan Pascoe immediately grasped my point. Any unmarried woman would be doubly suspect if she accompanied John David on this day, of all days. “Good thinking. I’ll talk to you later,” he said, and he and John David marched into the complex, ready to plunge into the business of justice.
    Since I had to go back to the house and explain all this to John Queensland, I wondered who would have the easier time of it.

    On my way back to Mother’s, I stopped by the library to explain the situation and beg for some time off. Still in my nice dress, with my good pumps on, I was much admired before the condolences started rolling in. Perry Allison and Lillian Schmidt both gave me hugs, which I appreciated. After I’d accepted the first wave of sympathy, Perry said, “Oh, by the way, there’s a young man here waiting for you.”
    Those words were not exactly the thrill they might have been. “Not my stepson?” I asked, peering in all directions so I could hide if I saw Barrett coming.
    “No, no, this one’s younger.” Perry, who was resplendent today in deep green cargo pants and a chocolate brown shirt, pointed at the magazine area, and I looked at the young man sitting at the round table with a Gaming magazine in front of him. He was easily five nine, and he was broad-shouldered. His teenage-chic clothes had started out expensive, but now they