Blackbird 10 - A Little Night Murder by Nancy Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

as a good-bye.
    “Good grief,” said Libby as we watched her abrupt departure, “for a mob boss’s mistress, you’d think she’d have more people skills. We’re lucky she didn’t run over our toes, aren’t we?”
    Lexie wound her arm through mine. “Nora, let’s get you in out of this heat. You look pale. Libby, can you join us? Or do you have more deliveries to make?”
    Libby shrugged. “If Jenny Tuttle is dead, I’m done for the day. But I’m not ready to face my children yet. Nora, are you going to work? I’ll drive you into the city. I could go for some recreational shopping to raise my endorphins.”
    I had to be at the offices of the
Philadelphia Intelligencer
in an hour and a half, and there was no telling if Michael could get away from the police in time to drive me, so I thanked Libby for her offer. While Lexie made drinks, I hauled myself upstairs to change.
    With relief, I stripped off Libby’s maternity T-shirt and took a fast shower to rinse off the pool chlorine. Refreshed, I put on a linen maternity dress—one of the few that didn’t reflect Libby’s preference for low décolletage. Nor did it make me look as if I only needed a Wonder Woman lunchbox to carry to kindergarten. Why did designers of maternity clothes believe pregnant women wantedto regress to their own toddler wardrobes? It was hard to find something that made me look remotely professional. This sleeveless, trapeze-style dress was a cheery shade of pink, though, and I’d had it hemmed to show off my legs—one feature that hadn’t ballooned up. Yet. I had found an antique seashell button that worked as a closure at my neckline and matched the subtle embroidery around my throat. I checked the mirror. With a pair of kitten-heeled slingbacks, I looked pretty good. Almost normal from the back. The side view was an eyepopper, though. Could I spend the next two months backing into rooms?
    Trying not to think about my silhouette, I combed out my hair and redid it into another cool updo. My face had a touch of sunshine—a few freckles had bloomed on my nose—so I added lip gloss and mascara and hoped I didn’t look too pale. After seeing Boom Boom’s bizarre complexion, I felt as if I looked pretty normal.
    Downstairs, Lexie and Libby were finishing glasses of iced tea in the breakfast room.
    “Michael didn’t come back yet?”
    “He must still be talking with the police.” Lexie gave me a hug. “Try to put this afternoon out of your mind, Nora. It’s awful, but really, people die every day. It’s natural, the circle of life and all.”
    “I know.” But it felt unnatural to me. I remembered Jenny as she had been years ago, her eyes shining with gratitude for my father’s kindness. She had been a real person to me, not a stranger. And her death was not something I could shake off in an hour or two.
    Briskly, Lexie said, “Thanks for coming today, sweetie. You’re good medicine for me. And for keeping me out of the public eye—you’re wonderful. For the rest of the day, think about your baby and—the future.” She smiled, careful not to mention next week’s wedding in front of Libby. “See you again tomorrow? The weather’s supposed to be perfect for dipping our toes in the pool.”
    “You know I love to dip with you.” I gave her a good-bye hug.
    Libby picked up my swimming bag and led the way to her minivan. “Lexie says there were plenty of spiritual opportunities in prison, but they all required sitting on folding chairs, which sounds awful. I mean, why risk hemorrhoids, even for metaphysical nirvana? Give me a therapist’s office with a comfy couch any day. If nothing else, you get a nice nap. That door handle is broken,” she said when I reached to let myself into the vehicle. “I’ll have to open it for you from inside.”
    When we were both in the van, I said, “What’s wrong with this door handle?”
    “I left the van parked on a side street in New Hope, and somebody tried to break it off with a