Murder List by Julie Garwood Read Free Book Online Page A

only seven short blocks to The Palms, Regan decided to walk. On the way back, she would drop off the grant reports at the attorney’s office, and she wanted to stop by Dickerson’s Bath Shop to buy a bottle of Sophie’s favorite body lotion. Her friend’s birthday was just around the corner.
    Regan had already purchased a gorgeous Prada bag Sophie had admired, and she was going to fill it with all the things her friend loved. If there was time, she would also stop in Nieman Marcus and buy a bottle of Vera Wang’s perfume. It was all Sophie wore these days.
    Regan decided walking would do her good. The exercise would hopefully help her get rid of her bad mood. Finding out that Emily had been snooping around her office was infuriating, and she wasn’t able to get past it yet.
    She was thinking about the invasion of her privacy as she crossed the lobby. She spotted Emily heading toward the concierge and decided to confront her.
    “Emily, have you got a minute? I’d like to speak to you.” Emily turned, a look of irritation on her face, and said, “Yes, of course.”
    “Henry mentioned that he found you in my office last week.” Regan expected a denial and was shocked when Emily said, “Yes, that’s correct.”
    “What exactly were you doing?”
    “I placed some papers on your desk.”
    “Why didn’t you give them to Henry or leave them on his desk?”
    “I didn’t want them to get misplaced.” Emily was looking over Regan’s shoulder instead of directly at her, letting her know how unimportant the conversation was.
    “Henry doesn’t misplace things.” She was going to launch into a litany of praise for her assistant, but Emily didn’t stay around long enough to listen.
    She walked away and without a backward glance said, “Henry misplaced Aiden’s report, didn’t he?”
    “No, he did not,” she said emphatically.
    “Then I must assume you did.”
    Emily kept going. Regan wasn’t about to get into a shouting match with the woman or go chasing after her, but trying to get along with her was becoming more and more impossible. Something had to be done, and soon. Count to ten and concentrate on something good, she told herself. Something positive.
    She stepped outside of the hotel and immediately noticed what a beautiful, clear day it was. The gray haze had already burned off the city, and the sun was shining brightly. The sky was a perfect shade of powder blue. Spring flowers were budding out of giant earthen pots along the street. She took another deep breath and promptly started sneezing. The pollen count must not be too bad today, she thought.
    Her eyes weren’t burning and she only sneezed six or seven times.
    Things were looking up. She was staying positive. Mind over matter, she told herself.
    Then she encountered her first sleazebag of the day on the corner of Michigan and Superior while she was waiting for the light to change. A late-to-middle-aged man, who didn’t seem to care how many people watched, groped a petite redhead Regan estimated to be around eighteen years old. The silly girl obviously loved the attention. Her squeaky laughter could have broken glass. Regan gripped the leather strap of her purse and strode past the lovey-dovey couple, forcing herself not to say anything judgmental out loud.
    She ran into another early May-late December couple as she was striding past Nieman Marcus, and by the rime she reached the restaurant, she was hopping mad and nauseated.
    Kevin was on duty today. Tall, lanky, and painfully thin, the twenty-year-old had spiked black hair and almond-shaped eyes. He was Henry’s best friend. His smile put her in a much better mood.
    “Looking awful good today, Regan,” he said after giving her a quick once-over. “That fitted suit sure accents your…”
    She raised an eyebrow. “My what?”
    “Curves,” he whispered, and had the good grace to blush.
    Before she could answer, he leaned over the podium to look at her shoes. “Hey, are those Jimmy