Fat-Free and Fatal (A Kate Jasper Mystery) by Jaqueline Girdner Read Free Book Online Page B

your nickel, a few stacks of books, and a dozen crystal balls. They were real quartz-crystal balls, mounted on carved stands all over the room.
    “We don’t know that it even was one of the people in the class who murdered Sheila,” I argued as I set my box down. “How about letting the police handle it?”
    “It was someone in the class,” Barbara told me, her eyes serious. “I’ll bet it was because she hit her little girl.”
    I pushed a pile of tarot cards to the side of the nearest futon and took a seat. “If people went around killing everyone they saw hitting children,” I replied, equally serious, “there would be a helluva lot more dead bodies around.”
    None of my arguments made a dent in Barbara’s resolve. Half an hour later, we were making phone calls. Barbara was in her bedroom using her personal phone line. I was in the living room using her business line. And worse, I was setting up appointments to see potential murderers in person. I’d agreed to the plan only when Barbara had promised me that we would visit any suspects as a team. Her capitulation had been all too swift. I rubbed my throbbing temples. I had been suckered again.
    I got Alice Frazier the first try, on duty at the reception desk of the Stanton-Reneau Insurance Agency in downtown San Francisco. And Meg was there too, Alice told me, doing temp work. I invited them to lunch. Alice put me on hold for a minute or two, then returned to accept the invitation. Barbara and I could meet them at their office, she told me. She sounded perfectly happy about the arrangement, unafraid. That made one of us.
    I called Iris Neville next. She was breathless with excitement at the prospect of being interviewed.
    “So glad to be included,” she assured me.
    I told her we’d see her within the hour, and wondered what was wrong with these people. I could be the killer. They should be nervous.
    I was on my way into Barbara’s bedroom to tell her the news when she yelled my name. I ran the last few steps, visions of murder, even kidnapping, flooding my brain. But Barbara was only held captive by the screen of her television set.
    “Look,” she said pointing. “Our murder’s on TV.”
    “—deeply upset by this recent act of violence,” a well-dressed, olive-skinned man with large mournful eyes was saying to a microphone-wielding reporter. “The members of the San Ricardo Police Department are working around the clock to discover the identity of the perpetrator.”
    “Lieutenant Madrid, do you have any suspects yet?” the reporter asked.
    “I cannot say at this time,” the man answered.
    As the reporter turned back to the screen, Barbara touched a button on her remote control and the picture disappeared.
    “Jeez-Louise,” she said. “If that’s the head of the detective bureau, we’re in trouble.”
    I shrugged my shoulders. However politic his words, Lieutenant Madrid had a better chance of solving this murder than we did.
    “Okay,” Barbara said, all business now. She picked up a notebook. “There’s no one at Ken Hermann’s but an answering machine. I left a message. Leo didn’t write down his last name, but his phone number is connected to an art gallery. The woman who answered said Leo’d be in most of the day. Paula Pierce and Gary Powell wrote down the same number, but it’s busy.” She paused to scribble down some notes, then looked up at me. “So what’d you get?” she asked.
    Barbara was impressed when I told her about our two appointments. She leapt off her bed and gave me a big hug in celebration, then changed into a pair of beige slacks and a conservative silk print blouse in a matter of seconds.
    I looked down at my own MY CAT WALKS ALL OVER ME shirt, complete with paw prints. My mother had given it to me for my birthday.
    Barbara saw the look and tossed me a lavender silk blouse. Luckily she wore her clothes loose. I changed into the silk blouse and tucked it into my jeans. I wondered if she’d let me keep