Dead Giveaway by Joanne Fluke Read Free Book Online

drove west to California or Nevada or Arizona, or anyplace warm and sunny and green.
    â€œThere you are!” Alma Jacobson ran down the hallway to intercept her, the sleeves on her gray sweater flapping. “Mr. Eicht’s looking all over for you. You’ve got a long-distance call in the office and he said it was an emergency.”
    â€œLong distance?” Ellen frowned. “Did he say from where?”
    â€œLas Vegas, Nevada. A Mr. Marc Davies. I’ll take care of your class if they finish lunch before you’re through.”
    â€œThank you, Alma.” Ellen realized that Alma was shifting from foot to foot, barely concealing her curiosity. “Marc Davies is my Uncle Lyle’s partner.”
    â€œI hope there’s nothing wrong.” Alma looked genuinely concerned. “Take your time, Ellen. I’ll herd them all into the multipurpose room and we’ll sing “Froggie Went A’Courting.” That should be good for at least ten minutes.”
    Ellen’s heart was pounding as she hurried to the office. Why would Marc Davies call her? Uncle Lyle and Aunt Charlotte were her closest living relatives, but she hadn’t seen them since her mother’s funeral, ten years ago. Naturally, they exchanged Christmas cards and letters, but they’d never been close. She rounded the corner quickly and pushed open the office door. Mrs. Timmons, the school secretary, motioned her toward the principal’s office. “Use Mr. Eicht’s desk, Ellen. He said it’s all right. Your call’s on line two.”
    Ellen was surprised to find her hands were trembling as she picked up the receiver. They were trembling even more as she put it down, five minutes later. Mrs. Timmons took one look at her pale face when she emerged, and rushed her to a chair.
    â€œJust sit right here, Ellen.” Mrs. Timmons hurried off for a glass of water and watched anxiously as Ellen sipped. “Bad news, then?”
    Ellen nodded. “I just found out that my aunt and uncle are dead.”
    An angular woman in her mid-fifties who was not given to any overt signs of affection, Mrs. Timmons patted Ellen’s shoulder awkwardly. “Oh, dear! I’m so sorry, Ellen. Was it a car accident?”
    â€œNo.” Ellen’s voice was shaking slightly. “They went to Mardi Gras for their anniversary and they were attacked in a hotel elevator. The police think it was a mugging that got out of hand.”
    â€œI don’t know what this world’s coming to!” Mrs. Timmons sighed deeply. “It’s gotten to the point where decent people can’t even step out of their houses without taking their lives in their hands. Ellen, dear . . . you still look white as a sheet. Shall I call Mrs. Percy to come in and sub? I know she’s home today.”
    Ellen was about to say that she could stick it out when she remembered that Mrs. Percy needed the work. A teacher’s pension wasn’t much to live on. “Good idea, Mrs. Timmons. Tell her my lesson plans are in the middle desk drawer, but she doesn’t have to follow them if she’d rather do something else. Alma took my class down to the multipurpose room to sing.”
    â€œThat’s fine, dear. You just get your coat and run along. Alma can watch them until Mrs. Percy gets here.”
    In the teachers’ lounge Ellen slipped into her coat, put her shoes into a carrying bag, and pulled on her moon boots for the walk to the parking lot. When she got to the car, she’d have to take off her moon boots, too bulky to drive in, and put her shoes back on.
    The lounge was deserted. All the teachers were back in their classrooms and Ellen felt almost as if she were doing something illegal by leaving before the final bell had rung. She should be starting her reading class about now, printing new vocabulary words on the board for the Larks. Ellen had three reading groups, and despite their euphemistic