Deadly Interest by Julie Hyzy Read Free Book Online

being alive when I was
there.
    “ Yes, very much so,” I
said, willing my voice to steady itself. “She was grateful to me
because she’d locked herself out and I helped her back
in.”
    His hand stopped moving and he glanced up at
me. “Neighbors have been telling me all night that she never locked
her doors.”
    I nodded, a presage to my answer. “That’s
true. She never did. But Diana . . .” it was my turn to gesture
into the dark outside, “she always would lock the doors, even when
Mrs. Vicks asked her not to. And sometimes she did it when Mrs.
Vicks would forget her key . . .” I let the sentence hang.
    “ And that’s what happened
today?”
    I nodded, again.
    “ How did you get
in?”
    I told him. He’d stopped writing and was
watching me as I spoke, his eyes expressionless. Somehow that
encouraged me to tell him more. I did. I told him about how
grateful she’d been, and how I’d smelled the food and how she’d
promised to make me dinner tomorrow night.
    Out of habit I glanced at my watch. “It’s
tomorrow, now,” I added.
    “ Where did you go
afterward?”
    I opened my mouth, reluctant to let on that
I was part of the media. “A big dinner,” I said finally. “From
work.”
    His eyes took on a skeptical look as though
he knew I’d held back. Again I felt a gaze taking in my outfit,
heels and shawl.
    “ How was she killed?” I
asked. “What were the circumstances?”
    Back to scribbling, Detective Lulinski
didn’t look up. He held up a finger, indicating I should wait. A
few seconds later he asked me for my address, date of birth, and
home, work and cell phone numbers, jotting them all down as fast as
I spoke. Then, remembering my question, he finally answered, “We’re
not releasing any details yet.”
    “ Did someone actually
break in, or did she let them in?”
    His expression impassive, his eyes blank, he
repeated, “No details.”
    Exasperated, I sat back, and let out a long
sigh.
    He had another question for me. “You said
you picked up some papers in her house. Papers that fell?”
    “ Bank statements,” I said.
“Yeah.”
    “ We’re going to need to
fingerprint you. For elimination purposes.” He gazed at me with
that flat expression, pulled out a business card and handed it
over. “Come down to the station tomorrow.”
    I nodded. I was being dismissed.
    He got out of the car and looked at his
watch. “Or, like you said—today.”

Chapter Five

    I took the stairs, as
usual, up to the second floor of our building. Constructed during
the prohibition-era, the thirty-five-story edifice was home to
our Midwest Focus staff. I loved the place. I loved walking up the marble
stairs with their center carpet of deep red print, the kind I’d
expect to find in a British nobleman’s castle. The effect wasn’t
dispelled by the rest of the lobby. Gold-leaf paint trimmed the
crown moulding above, and the gold elevator doors
gleamed.
    I cleared the top step, gazing ahead through
the doors of our office. I could see everyone moving around, silent
through the heavy glass. Like a bunch of office-mimes. Busy
already.
    A long night of rehashing poor Mrs. Vicks’
demise left me sleepless, and now I’d have to run the gauntlet of
well-meaning colleagues.
    “ Alex!”
    It started immediately as I pushed through
the doors. The center of our spacious office was taken up by the
“hub” where the entire support staff answered phones, prepared
reports, and pretty much kept our craziness on an even keel.
    I pasted on a smile, trying to answer all
their exclamations with appropriate responses.
    “ I’m so sorry, Alex. You
should have won that award.”
    “ It’s a shame, isn’t it?
You okay? How did Bass handle it?”
    “ Oh, Alex, I heard about
what that low-life Dan said in his speech. What an idiot. Just wait
till it’s your turn.”
    I tried nodding, agreeing, thanking, but all
I wanted to do was bolt into my office. My assistant, Jordan, would
help me sort through my morning