Death is a Bargain (A Kate Kennedy Mystery Book 3) by Noreen Wald Read Free Book Online

bells. Why hadn’t she thought this through first and asked Mary Frances, who might have known. Hearing a sigh, Kate plunged onward. “I’m looking for the volunteer who visited the Palmetto Beach Flea Market to investigate possible animal abuse.”
    “‘Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa they have named you,’” the voice sang the first few bars of the famous Nat King Cole song. Smooth and on key.
    “I beg your pardon.” Kate sounded as puzzled as she felt
    A giggle, then the woman said, “Sorry. I got carried away. I just love that song, and I just love MonaLisa Buccino. Unlike the painting and the song, her first and second names are one name, one word. She’s the volunteer you want.”
    “Oh.” Kate laughed. “That’s one of my favorite old songs too. So is MonaLisa Buccino there?
    “May I tell her why you want to speak to her?” The poky voice had turned somewhat wary.
    “Yes. Please tell Ms. Buccino I may have information that will help her case.”
    “Good.” The voice was friendly again. “MonaLisa’s downstairs nursing a sick dog. Give me your phone number, and I’ll have her call you in about an hour, okay?”
    Kate left both her numbers and hung up feeling better, yet frustrated. She had so many questions. Impulsively, but from memory, she dialed Nick Carbone’s number. Risking being called a busybody Miss Marple—it wouldn’t be the first time—she’d share her theory that Whitey Ford was murdered to prevent him from mailing his evidence documenting elephant abuse to the Humane Society. Did his killer know the photographs had arrived?
    Nick wasn’t there. She left a brief message, then leaned back in the wicker chair, eyes and heart heavy.
    “When an elephant squeaks, it means he’s happy to see you.” A boy about four, certainly no more than five, with golden-brown bangs and huge, dark blue eyes plopped himself down in a child-sized rocking chair next to her. Kate started. The little boy looked exactly like her son Kevin at that age, with the same John-John hairstyle.
    She stared at the child, her heart suddenly much lighter. “Is that right?”
    “Oh, yes.” The boy smiled up at her. “I know all about elephants. Even their secrets.”
    Kate longed to scoop him up and ruffle his thick hair, but she settled for a smile.
    “Please tell me more.”
    “I sat on an elephant once. I did. And my mommy helped me off.” The boy giggled. “I slided down his face. I really did.” His navy eyes sparkled. “Right between his big ears.”
    “What an adventure.” This time Kate did reach over to touch his hair. “I once had a little boy who looked just like you.”
    “Did he die?”
    “Oh, no, sweetheart.” Kate shook her head. “He just grew up.”
    “My daddy died.”
    “Billy, there you are! I warned you not to wander off.” Donna Viera’s loud voice made both the boy and Kate jump. “And I warned you about talking to strangers.”
    “Well, I’m hardly a stranger, Donna.”
    “You are to Billy. Why, you could be a child abuser. I’ve taught him not to speak to anyone he doesn’t know. That would include you, wouldn’t it?”
    Donna grabbed the boy’s hand and led him away.
    Kate bit her lip as the tears fell. How could her preconceived ideas about Donna Viera have been so wrong? Despite those drum-majorette looks, she must be considerably older than twenty. She had a son, whose father was dead. The still-vivid image of the trainer prodding the elephant made Kate feel queasy. How did Donna treat her beautiful child?

Ten

      
    Kate walked into a corridor filled with confusion.
    Marlene, on her knees, blocked much of what appeared to be a man’s body.
    Pacing in the center of the corridor, Mary Frances shouted into her cell phone, “Of course, it’s an emergency. I wouldn’t have called 911 if it weren’t.”
    The Baby Boomer doll lady, Linda Something—Kate couldn’t think—was stroking her cat and crying. “Two dead in three days, Precious. It’s time to get out of