Beneath the Silk by Wendy Rosnau Read Free Book Online

continue to be her alibi. She wouldn’t only be out of business, she’d be in jail.
    It had been such a small lie. Well, not that small … but harmless. She’d just wanted Silks to have the best location possible in the city, and Masado Towers was simply the best.
    Sunni was in the kitchen still dissecting her grim situation when a knock sounded at the front door. She glanced at her blue silk robe, debating whether she should make a quick change or pretend she wasn’t home. The second knock forced her to the door to investigate. She leaned into the door, closed one eye and focused the other on the peephole.
    “Omigod … I’m dead.”
    Sunni’s life—past and future—flashed before her eyes. She pressed her hand to her throat, tried to swallow.
    Another knock.
    “He’s finally made his move,” she whispered, choking on the words. Would they talk first? she wondered. Or would he just kill her … quick? Or maybe not so quick.
    The idea of being dead, no matter how Rambo achieved it, sent Sunni scrambling into her bedroom. Throwing one of her fluffy pillows to the floor, she snatched up her loaded .22—if she was going to die, she wouldn’t go down without a fight, she decided.
    Sunni emerged from the bedroom with the .22 automatic gripped in her hand, just as she heard Rambo call out, “Sis, you there?”
    Sis…
    “Come on, Sis. Open up. It’s me.”
    She knew who it was, and her neighbor no doubt did, too—his voice was loud as a bell. Sunni looked out the peephole once more. “Not too smart, Rambo. A man bent on murder doesn’t want witnesses.”
    Witnesses…
    Of course, that was it. What she needed was a witness. Before Sunni could second-guess her genius idea, she slid the .22 into her robe pocket and unlocked the door. Please, Edna, be nosy today, she silently prayed, then flung the door wide and bolted through it.
    In a flash of blue silk, she was past Rambo. Another second and she was pounding on Edna’s door. “Edna! Edna!”
    In a jiffy the elderly woman in 404 swung her door open. “Yes, dear?”
    “Look at this man, Edna.” Sunni spun on her heels and jabbed the air with a nervous finger in the direction of her early-morning caller. “Take a good look, Edna. If you read in the Tribune tomorrow that I was found in my apartment with my throat slit, call the police and give them this man’s description. Green eyes, Edna. Dark hair, almost black. He hasn’t shaved in days.”
    “Five, to be exact,” Rambo supplied. “That’s if you want to count today.”
    Edna angled her head and squinted Jackson Ward into focus. “He looks tall, dear. How tall did you say?”
    “Very tall, Edna. He must be—”
    “Six three.”
    “Three, Edna. He said he’s six thr—” Sunni snapped her mouth shut and glanced back to find Rambo leaning comfortably against her doorjamb. He was wearing jeans and a brown leather jacket along with an amused smile that didn’t exactly make him look nasty or dangerous. Or much like a hit man.
    “Handsome? Is he a looker, Sunni? His voice is sure nice.”
    Edna’s question went unanswered, but not for long. Suddenly she shuffled forward in her pink terry-towel bathrobe, fuzzy pink bunny slippers and pink sponge rollers—nine, to be exact. She was three feet from Rambo when Sunni rushed forward and jerked Edna to a stop. “Wait. What are you doing?”
    “Getting a closer look, dear.” Edna stretched her birdlike neck and licked her crooked lips as she dissected Rambo as if he were the dessert special for Thursday night bingo. Finally, she asked, “Who is he, again?”
    To Sunni’s surprise, Rambo shoved away from the doorjamb and stuck out his hand to her elderly neighbor. “Hi, Edna. I’m Jackson, Sunni’s older brother. The one she never talks about.”
    “Brother? No, I don’t believe she mentioned you.”
    “I’m not surprised. I’m the black sheep in the family.”
    When Edna reached for his hand, Sunni’s jaw dropped. “You are not—”
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