If the Shoe Kills by Lynn Cahoon Read Free Book Online Page B

I can keep the projects I make here.”
    â€œSounds like you got the best assignment out of the group,” Amy teased. “My intern thinks I’m going to yell at her for asking to go to the bathroom.”
    â€œWho’s with her tonight?” I’d forgotten that Amy should be working with her charge rather than helping me stalk Marie.
    â€œEsmeralda. She’s teaching her dispatch.” Amy pulled a strand of blond hair out and checked for split ends. “We’re splitting the time between us.”
    â€œThat sounds fun, too,” Mindy said, not convincing us of her honesty.
    I was just about to ask about her son when Marie walked into the room and the women quieted like she was the president coming into a White House briefing. I glanced at Amy, who shrugged.
    â€œGood evening, ladies. So glad you took time out of your busy schedules to work on your personal development. Having a hobby isn’t being selfish; it’s being true to your own development as a child of God.” Marie smiled and motioned to Mindy, who scurried up to meet her. “This is my new assistant, who’ll be helping me teach tonight.”
    Mindy shyly waved to the group. “I’m Mindy, I’m glad to be here.”
    â€œHi, Mindy,” the group chorused back.
    â€œThis feels like an AA meeting,” Amy whispered.
    I shot my friend a look. “And how would you know that?”
    Amy grinned. “Can I plead television?”
    â€œGoofball.” I turned back to the front of the room, where Marie was glaring at us. “Sorry,” I mouthed. It felt less like a class and more like Sunday services had when I was a kid. My mom used to give me that same look when I’d start to fidget.
    Twenty minutes later and we were deep into our project, a heralding angel. I was pleasantly surprised at the fact my effort was beginning to actually look like an angel. At least until I saw Amy’s. Her lines were clean, and if mine referenced a female in a Picasso manner, she had the Mona Lisa angel. I narrowed my eyes at her.
    â€œMy mom wanted her little girl to be an artist, not a city planner. I had classes in all forms of art before I fell in love with architecture.” Amy held her ornament up.
    â€œAmy, I didn’t know you were so talented.” Marie came up behind me and leaned close to examine my friend’s foil work. She patted Amy on the arm, then studied my efforts. “I’m sure you’ll catch on, Jill. Keep trying.”
    â€œI appreciate your support.” I tried not to let the envy seep out of my voice. I had to remind myself that we weren’t there to learn the craft. I focused on Marie. “Hey, I never asked, how are you feeling? After the near miss in the street? You didn’t get hit, did you?”
    Marie froze. She glanced around the room. “Time for a break, everyone.” Lowering her voice, she answered, “I’m fine. I didn’t get hurt, just scared.”
    â€œYou should have seen Ted after the incident, he was so upset. He kept asking if I thought you were all right. He seemed genuinely concerned.”
    â€œHa.” Marie shook her head. “He was probably more concerned that I’d dented his car. He treated that Mustang like it was his baby.”
    Amy caught my eye. She took the hint and asked, “So, you knew Ted?”
    Marie glanced around the room. Most of the students were outside, enjoying the night air and the white Christmas lights twinkling in the trees. “Mindy mentioned that he worried about that car all the time. He had his own parking lot for it. One car in ten spaces. Can you believe that?”
    Sounded like Ted, I thought. A few people drifted back into the room. It was now or never, so I jumped to the obvious question. “Marie, were you married to him?”
    I swear the blood in her face drained. “Why would you ask that?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just put