Fatal Feng Shui by Leslie Caine Read Free Book Online Page A

hidden to protect him from somebody?”
    “Let’s not jump to conclusions. I’ll take this to the police. We’ll let them handle this.”
    “Wait, Erin! I’ve seen that blonde before! She’s got that television show in the mornings. That she copycatted from Audrey’s
Domestic Bliss
show. Isn’t that her?”
    “Rebecca Berringer, yes. And that’s Chef Michael from Audrey’s show.” My client.

Our homes are what restore us, reveal our inner selves, and celebrate not only who we are, but who we hope to become.
    —Audrey Munroe
----
    DOMESTIC BLISS
    Although I had every intention of taking the photographs directly to the Crestview Police Department, I didn’t. I simply couldn’t face the prospect of going from the heartbroken grief of my biological mother’s house straight to the sterile coldness of the police station in general, and of Detective O’Reilly in particular. I first needed to go home and shore up my flagging spirits.
    My whole body was trembling as I parked near the slate walkway. Just the sight of the regal stone exterior of the mansion that I was lucky to call my home gave me some solace. As I opened the carved oak door, I desperately hoped Audrey would be here.
    I immediately noticed a new bouquet of pristine white calla lilies in the Waterford vase. The vase sparkled with captured yellow light from the chandelier. Seeing such a pretty sight at such a bleak time made my eyes mist again. I took a moment to drink in the atmosphere. I loved every square inch of this entranceway, from the high-coved ceiling to the travertine tile floor—the succulent smoky green wall paint, the roomy coat closet with its paneled doors, the quiet elegance of the precise trim.
    Now, however, what I loved most of all was my view through the French doors into the messy parlor. Audrey sat on the Oriental rug, ensconced in some art project for her show. My black cat, Hildi, sat beside her, scrutinizing her every move.
    I shed my coat and stepped forward. Audrey’s smile faded as she studied my features. “Erin?”
    “The worst thing has happened. Taylor Duncan was killed.” Feeling as though I was in some kind of a stupor, I watched as Hildi leapt onto a cushion of the sofa, apparently wanting to race me to my favorite seat.
    “Oh, my God.” Audrey sprang to her feet, showing the grace that had been her hallmark as a former ballerina decades ago. “Sit down.”
    I obeyed. She wrapped a feather-soft chenille comforter around my shoulders, swept up my startled kitty from her perch on the cushion, plopped her down in my lap, then took a seat beside me on the sage-colored sofa. “Tell me everything,” my landlady said.

    When I glanced at my watch, I was surprised to see that an hour had passed since I’d begun pouring my heart out to Audrey. Hildi, who only ever stayed where she’d gone of her own volition, had long since left my lap. Having finally talked myself out, I slid the throw from my shoulders and started to rise. “Thanks for listening.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “The police station. To give them those photos.”
    “That can wait. You look like you’ve been hit by a train. You shouldn’t be driving.”
    “I’ll be fine.”
    “Maybe so, but I need to understand. This feng shui practice…isn’t it supposed to be used for self-defense, like karate? And for the betterment of the soul and body? It sounds to me like Rebecca Berringer is using it for evil.”
    “That’s a bit of an overstatement. But I agree with the gist.”
    “Rumor is she was bragging on her TV show about the whole nasty feng shui battle with the neighbor.”
    “Oh, really?” I feigned ignorance; I knew Audrey secretly recorded Rebecca’s shows, but I wasn’t about to force her to acknowledge that fact—and what it revealed about her deep insecurity regarding their rivalry.
    “Somebody should de-feng that woman.” A frown marred her patrician features. “Rebecca’s making a mockery of the philosophies. Although I