Dead Girl in a Green Dress by Loucinda McGary Read Free Book Online

she told me she was seeing someone else. She wouldn’t say who."
    Behind him, Tate heard Byrony stir, but he didn’t want to break his momentum with Cody so he didn’t turn around. "But don’t you have an idea who? Ever see her with anyone?"  
    "Jessica didn’t socialize that much." Cody muttered, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Not like the other seasonal girls."
    "Party girls, huh? Did they go out with guests?"
    "Some did, but not Jessica," the kid insisted. From the back room, a gruff voice called Cody’s name. "Be right there," he hollered back, then he shifted his anguished gaze to Byrony . "I tried to save her, Miss Long. I really did, but I couldn’t. She was already cold…"
    Tate saw tears glittering on Byrony’s lashes and her voice shook a little when she spoke. "I know you did, Cody, and I’m very grateful you tried."
    Rubbing his nose across the sleeve of his t-shirt, the kid turned to go.
    "One more question." Tate stopped him. "The police report said she had no purse, or other ID. What about shoes? When you found her, was she wearing shoes?"
    Confusion twisted Cody’s features. "I dunno … I don’t remember seeing any shoes. But why would a mugger take her shoes?"
    "I’ve been asking myself the same question." Tate handed the kid a business card. "If you think of anything else, please give me a call."
    "I will," Cody promised, shoving the card into his pocket.
    Back outside, the clouds had started to give way to patches of blue sky, but Byrony’s expression looked stormy. "She couldn’t have walked on that trail without shoes!"
    "Doesn’t seem likely to me either, Sunshine." Tate took her elbow and guided her to the corner, talking as they went. "Plus, I can’t see any woman going barefoot in a fancy dress like that."
    "So somebody brought her there. She wasn’t mugged, at least not there."
    "Like Cody said, never heard of a mugger who took shoes." Tate gazed across the street and inclined his head. "How about we continue our discussion over coffee at that diner?"
    "Sounds good," Byrony agreed.
    Once they got inside and seated, Tate ordered pie with their coffee.
    "Why don’t you weigh three hundred pounds?" Byrony asked with a roll of her golden eyes.
    "Lucky dip in the gene pool," he answered with a shrug.
    While Tate dug into his apple pie, she sipped her coffee thoughtfully for a few moments before she spoke. "So this wasn’t a random crime of opportunity. Who could have possibly had a reason to murder my little sister?"
    Tate chose his words carefully. "I know it’s a corny old saw, but there really is a thin line between love and hate, so cops always look at the spouse or significant other first."
    Byrony banged her coffee cup on the table and raised frustrated but beseeching eyes. "So how do we find this mysterious boyfriend? There are so many possibilities."
    "Not as many as you think." He wanted to reassure her, but not give her too much hope. He laid down his fork and ticked off on his fingers. "First, we know she didn’t date guests. Second, if she was dating another seasonal employee, why would they keep it a secret? Most of those seasonals are kids with nothing to lose by having a fling with each other."
    Her golden gaze flashed. "My sister is not the fling type."
    "Sorry, bad word choice – dating, in a relationship." If she didn’t like the idea of a fling, Tate expected Byrony would blow a fuse at what he actually suspected. He cleared his throat and tried to prepare for the worst. "My point is that if Jessica and her boyfriend wanted to keep it on the down low, one of them probably had something to lose."
    He paused intentionally and took a slow sip of his coffee to let her digest his words. When it finally sank in, her mouth flew open for a moment then snapped shut. He watched her struggle to restrain herself before she spoke.
    She wasn’t entirely successful and her tone came out in a low hiss. "Are you saying Jessica was seeing a married man?"
    Tate threw his