Dying to Read by Lorena McCourtney Read Free Book Online Page A

valuable one?
    Cheryl joined her a few minutes later. “Sorry for the interruption. That was Scott. He’s trying to get away from the conference as soon as he can. Even though we’ve been married for four years now, he just has to call several times a day whenever he’s out of town.”
    Cheryl rolled her eyes, and Cate interpreted the movement as Cheryl wanting to imply she was exasperated with such solicitous husbandly attention but actually being quite proud of it.
    Cheryl opened several drawers and found an old-fashioned cedar jewelry box in one. She set it on the dressing table and pushed the contents around with her forefinger.
    “The squash blossom necklace is here.” Cheryl dangled the heavy necklace of silver, turquoise, and coral from a finger. “It looks like sterling silver, but I have no idea of its value.”
    Monetary value was obviously the big factor in Cheryl’s judgment of worth, not the fact that her aunt had owned and probably treasured the necklace.
    Cheryl set the necklace beside the cedar box and rummaged further, finally grabbing a handful of jewelry and holding it up as if it were a fistful of spaghetti. “The rest of this is junk! All the good jewelry is gone. There should be emeralds. And the tiara. And I remember diamond-stud earrings too, at least a carat each.”
    “Maybe she has a home safe?”
    Cheryl, suddenly energized, dashed around the bedroom, shoving aside mirrors and paintings, pushing one so hard it crashed to the floor and shattered the frame. None of which revealed anything more than empty wall space.
    Cheryl finally paused and planted her hands on her hips. “Well, Willow definitely got herself enough here to finance an escape to Mexico or the Bahamas or somewhere. And I’m wondering now if she didn’t do more than take advantage of Aunt Amelia’s fall to steal the jewelry. Maybe she pushed her!”
    “What about a safe-deposit box?”
    Cheryl took a deep breath, sliding one hand from her throat down her chest as if to calm herself. “Amelia liked to flash her glitter. I don’t think she’d hide anything in a safe-deposit box. But I’ll check. You’ll let me know if you have any luck finding Willow?”
    Cate wondered about the client/PI ethics of that, but Cheryl was too absorbed in her loss to notice that Cate’s murmur was noncommittal. Octavia was peeking out from behind a drape now.
    “You’re definitely taking the cat to the animal shelter?” Cate asked.
    “I mentioned my burgundy velvet chairs, didn’t I? And royal blue carpeting as well.”
    Cate hesitated, feeling as if she were skidding down a path she didn’t want to take. “Maybe I could take her . . .”
    Shut up, mouth , she commanded. What she did not need was an oversized, spoiled feline with epicurean tastes.
    But maybe she could find a good home for the cat among Uncle Joe and Rebecca’s neighbors. Yes, that would work! She’d find a home for the cat and then come back and get her. But Cheryl jumped on Cate’s cautious words as if they were an offer she couldn’t refuse.
    “You can take her? What a wonderful idea! I’m sure there’s a cat carrier out in the garage.”
    So not more than five minutes later, feeling rather like a piece of flotsam carried along by an irresistible tide, Cate found herself back in her car. With Cheryl at the car window saying, “I’m sure she’ll make you a wonderful companion.”
    “But I didn’t intend—”
    “It’s been lovely meeting you. And do let me know if you locate Willow, if the police don’t beat you to it. I’ll make up a list of the missing jewelry and give it to them. Although it’s probably a lost cause if she’s already left the country.”
    Cheryl waved as she headed back to the house. Cate drove down Meisman Street feeling a little dazed. She’d come here hoping to gather information that would help her locate Willow. Instead, what she had was a backseat full of canopied cat bed, two cases of some gourmet brand of cat food,