Daughter of Deceit by Patricia Sprinkle Read Free Book Online Page A

the compassion her mother had spent a lifetime trying to teach. “I can try, but I’m not promising anything.”
    “Wouldn’t matter if you did,” Posey grumbled as she resumed her chair. “You promised not to leave me alone with Ann Rose, and look what happened. Next thing I know, you’re over there pouring coffee, and I’m getting coerced into teaching somebody to read. Never trust a do-gooder. They’re too easily sidetracked by another good deed. Are you ready to go?”
    Katharine remembered the good deed she had originally come to perform. “Do you want me to drive you home, Bara? I could walk home from there. I don’t live far from you.”
    Bara struggled to her feet. “I am fine. Besides, I have to take Murdoch, or she’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
    “I’ll get another ride.”
    Katharine couldn’t blame Murdoch for looking nervous.
    “You blamed me in front of everybody for not coming to get you. I’ll jolly well take you home.” Bara caught her cousin firmly by the elbow and steered her out. At the arch, she called over her shoulder, “I’ll bring the medals over later so you can get to work on them.”

Chapter 6
    When the others had gone, Katharine frowned at her sister-in-law. “Why’d you force me to tell her I’ll identify those medals? What if I can’t?”
    “Tit for tat. If I have to tutor, you have to identify medals. Besides, like she told me, it won’t kill you to try. Now let’s get out of here before Ann Rose catches me and starts asking when I’m fixing to take that training.”
    “You think she’s okay to drive?” Posey asked a couple of minutes later, shading her eyes to watch Bara’s Jag roar down the drive and make a fast left between the high brick pillars.
    “I don’t know, but she wasn’t going to let us tell her she wasn’t. Let’s pray she doesn’t hurt herself or somebody else before she gets home.”
    Walking downhill was faster than coming up, but hotter. Katharine was glad to reach the little car, and hoped Posey would hurry home. Instead, as soon as she started the engine, Posey inquired, “Do you mind if we tool around a little? I haven’t gotten to drive it hardly at all. I’ll be very careful,” she added, seeing Katharine’s expression, “and I’ll tell you more about Bara’s troubles.”
    Katharine tied the chiffon scarf around her hair. “I don’t mind riding around for a little while, but I don’t need to gossip.”
    Posey—who garnered information like jewels, at aerobics classes, spas, and the beauty parlor—sputtered with indignation. “I don’t gossip! I simply share my heartfelt concern for other people. Poor Bara needs all the concern we can give her right now. You know what-all she’s already been through this past year, right? Her son killed in Iraq before Christmas, then right after Easter, her daddy—well, you know the mess about how he died.”
    Winnie Holcomb had plunged from the balcony of the penthouse he’d moved into after giving Payne and Hamilton his house. Atlanta had been doubly shocked by his death. Winnie was widely beloved. He had also designed the tower he lived in, and Holcomb & Associates had set a high standard in Atlanta for architectural safety. Their parapets were higher, their railings more closely spaced than any others in the city.
    “He must have been pushed,” Buckhead had insisted.
    “His deadbolt was locked and his security system armed,” the police reported.
    “Do you suppose he jumped?” people began to whisper.
    “How could he climb over a chest-high parapet with that artificial leg?” Winnie’s staunchest supporters retorted.
    Before anybody had satisfactorily answered those questions, even more shocking discoveries emerged. The autopsy revealed that Winnie had been dead before he hit the ground. A bullet was found in the remains of his skull, but no gun had ever been found.
    For weeks, Atlanta was rife with speculation. Had somebody managed to come into Winnie’s