Murder Strikes a Pose by Tracy Weber Read Free Book Online Page A

confidently strode back across the lobby.
    “I thought I heard someone talking out here,” I said, as I un-
    locked the door. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I was using the
    restroom.” I held up the purse. “Is this yours?”
    “Thanks, Kate,” Jenny replied, gratefully taking it from my
    hands. “I swear this pregnancy brain is going to be the death
    of me.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh no! And now I’m late for
    work!”
    “See you later, sweetheart!” Jake yelled as Jenny hurriedly wad-
    dled to her car.
    Irritation crawled up the back of my neck to the top of my
    scalp. “What do you want, Jake?”
    Jake’s flirtatious smile vanished. He picked up the envelope
    he’d dropped through the mail slot. “I stopped by to give you a
    copy of your rental agreement.”
    I must have looked confused, because he kept talking. “Alicia
    told me your rent check’s going to be late again. This is the last time, Kate. Alicia may be a pushover, but I’m in charge now. From now on, you’ll pay the fifty-dollar-a-day late fee, like everyone else.” He edged closer, his dark, bristly whiskers advancing dangerously close to my cheek. “Unless, that is, you want to start giving 41
    me some private lessons?” His expression feigned innocence, but
    the implication was clear. Even thinking about it made me want to toss my morning muffin, so to speak.
    One look at my face, and Jake wisely stepped back, holding up
    his hands. “Mellow out, Kate. I was kidding.”
    I resisted the urge to stomp on his foot.
    He grinned. “But think about it, just in case.” He handed me
    the envelope and walked away, whistling.
    _____
    I still felt slimy after the meditation teacher left two hours later, so I cleansed myself with a short yoga practice. I was literally hip deep in the luscious stretch of Pigeon Pose when I heard the mag-nificent sound of Bella’s unmistakable bark. George was back! I
    grabbed a dollar for a paper and ran to greet him.
    I threw open the door and froze. George wasn’t alone. The
    stranger standing next to him wore a bulky camouflage jacket and
    pushed a bicycle piled high with a mountain of army green duffle
    bags. No smile graced his dirt-smudged face; I had a feeling it never did. I couldn’t quite hear them, but based on their low, almost growling tones, I suspected they were arguing.
    I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, shivering. I felt un-
    easy about this stranger, though I couldn’t quite articulate why. It wasn’t his disheveled clothes or even his thick, dark beard. In some odd, intuitive way, I sensed his energy. It felt jagged, unpredictable somehow—like an irritable mountain lion, newly escaped from its
    cage.
    “Is everything OK over there?” I asked. The stranger muttered
    something to George, handed him a black nylon gym bag, and
    walked away, grumbling and pushing the bicycle beside him.
    42
    I walked up to George. “Are you all right?”
    “I’m fine,” George said. “Just a little disagreement over prop-
    erty rights.”
    George and I watched the departing stranger, now half a block
    away. Bella growled softly at his retreating shape.
    “Bella, you hush now,” George said. He ruffled Bella’s ears be-
    fore smiling at me. “Don’t you worry about Charlie there, ma’am.
    He’s a friend of mine. He likes to act all gruff, but he’s harmless enough. He even hides my stuff when I can’t watch it. Sometimes I just have to remind him it’s mine, not his.” He patted the gym bag.
    “But it’s all good now.”
    I would have probed further, but I got distracted. “Hey, Bella
    looks better!”
    Bella seemed happy and energetic; I could even have sworn
    that she smiled. Her ribs were still visible, but her eyes sparkled, and she looked like she’d put on a pound or two.
    George, on the other hand, looked awful. His dull, depressed
    eyes were underscored by purple-gray smudges, and his shoulders
    rounded forward in an uncharacteristic slump.
    I kneeled down to