Death of a Six-Foot Teddy Bear by Sharon Dunn Read Free Book Online Page A

floor and see if I can spot my husband?”
Giving Victoria her closeup moment must have opened some kind of hospitality door. She didn’t seem so anxious for Ginger to leave. Victoria glanced at her watch. “I guess that would be okay. Dustin is late anyway.”
She ushered Ginger into the suite. Dustin’s place also had a wall of glass that looked out on the convention floor. The uncluttered simplicity of the apartment caused her to stop. Neutral tones, solid country-style furniture with clean even lines, no neon, no glitz, no trendy accessories. Nothing that said money, money, money.
She passed a bookshelf that had an extensive collection of motivational books. Books on positive thinking and how to be a millionaire in three days. She recognized some of the tides from the books Earl had been reading. There was also an assortment of larger books on decorating, art, and architecture. An entire shelf was devoted to books and magazines about Donald Trump. A computer stood in a corner; papers were neatly stacked in folders labeled Outgoing and Incoming.
“It takes most people by surprise,” Victoria said.
An open door revealed a queen-size bed with a tattered quilt on it, a nightstand with a lamp, and two books. “After meeting the guy, it’s just not what you expect.” An old black-and-white movie played on the television in the living room. She picked up the DVD box on top of the television, A Stolen Life . “Are you in this one?”
Victoria giggled and touched her cheek to her shoulder. “No, Dustin and I both like old movies. I just started watching it while I was waiting. He doesn’t let very many people up here.” Victoria trotted behind Ginger while she circled the simple apartment. “He’s got a fancy office on the main floor where he conducts business.”
Ginger turned slowly to face the child star. “But he doesn’t mind if you wait for him in here?”
“Dustin and I are friends”—she ran her finger along a counter-top—“old friends.”
The word friends had a ring of untruth to it. Something bonded Dustin and Victoria together, but it wasn’t friendship.
Ginger glanced out at the convention floor. The activity had slowed. No potential distributors strolling around from booth to booth. Only inventors and family members lining up their products and straightening their booths. She scanned the floor from one end to the other. The entrance and exit doors had been closed. No Earl. No Earl anywhere.
The number 29 on a lighted pole showed where she and Earl and the girls should be right now: making sure the stuffed bear was angled to look threatening, lining up the Pepper Lights to create an eye-catching display. She rested her forehead against the glass. Earl was probably wandering around the hotel distraught. Could she even hope that he would come back to their hotel room?
Victoria pulled a pitcher of orange juice out of the refrigerator. “Did you spot him?” Cold steam billowed out of the freezer when she retrieved a bag of ice. Little Vicky certainly knew her way around Dustin’s place.
Ginger shook her head. “Thank you for letting me look.” She sighed and looked toward the door.
“I wonder where Dustin is.” Victoria pounded the bag of ice on the countertop with vicious intensity, then she grabbed a pick from a utensil canister and stabbed at it. “He knew this meeting was important to me.”
Ginger took one final look out on the convention floor. Six, maybe seven, people still wandered around the floor, and four of them had carpet sweepers and vacuums. Victoria continued to attack the ice, allowing pieces to fly across the counter. She unzipped her velour sweat jacket and hung it on a stool. Her sleeveless camisole revealed muscular upper arms.
She must have noticed Ginger staring. She touched her bicep and said, “Tae Bo and weightlifting.”
“I do water aerobics myself. We’d have to get a microscope to see my muscles.”
“I have to soak in a hot tub after my workout,” she