Nearly Departed (Spring Cleaning Mysteries) by JB Lynn Read Free Book Online Page A

anything about you, and Al…Detective Reed was being…a bully. I'm not fond of bullies."
    " And you're not going to ask me about it?" Smoke's tone wavered between incredulity and relief.
    I put down my pizza and looked him in the eye. "Is whatever it is going to affect your job performance?"
    " Is it…? No."
    " Then I'm not going to ask."
    He sat back in his seat and fell silent. I 'd given him something weighty to mull over. After a minute he said, "So does this mean you won't be having coffee with him?"
    I sighed. "Probably not."
    " You can do better than the likes of Al Reed."
    " Really? 'Cause most of the guys I meet are either dead, grieving, or landlords interested in cash flow."
    He turned so that he was facing me. "So why do it? Why do this job?"
    I looked straight ahead, staring at the dried globs of bird poop stuck to the windshield. They looked a lot like blood spatter. Resentment churned in my gut, but I was careful to keep my voice neutral. "Somebody's got to do it."
    Thankfully my phone began to ring, effectively ending the conversation.
    "I'll be back," he said, slipping out of the van and closing the door.
    I took a deep breath before answering. "Hi, Mom."
    " You answered your phone!" She sounded surprised.
    I slammed the back of my skull into the headrest of my seat. Great, just what I needed, a maternal lecture.
    " Vicky?"
    " I'm here."
    " Oh good. For a second there I thought I'd imagined you answering."
    " I'm taking my lunch break." I didn't bother to explain why I didn't answer my phone while I was working. I'd already gone over it a dozen times with her, but she persisted in thinking I was screening her calls. She wasn't all wrong. "Did you need something?"
    " I need you to eat the lasagna left over from Jerry's party."
    " Thanks, Mom, but—"
    " There are two trays of it. I have to get it out of the house before Dad eats it. It's loaded with full fat cheese. It's not part of his heart healthy diet."
    " Why don't you just freeze it?"
    " You know your father, he'll sneak in and chip away at it, like a squirrel raiding his supply of winter nuts!" My mother has had a deep and abiding hatred of squirrels ever since she swerved to miss one while driving, crashed her car, and broke her nose. Being compared to what she called "furry-tailed rats" was one of the greatest insults she could deliver.
    " I'm sure—"
    " You don't want him to have another heart attack do you? And that's what this is: a heart attack in a tray."
    " Heart attack on a plate," I corrected automatically. "And that's what they call Fettuccine Alfredo, not lasagna."
    " It's loaded with fat and cholesterol and not part of his heart healthy diet."
    " Then why have it in the house?"
    " Because it's Jerry's favorite."
    " But he wasn't even there." The moment the words escaped my mouth I desperately wished I could take them back. But it was too late. I'd said the horrible truth aloud.
    My mother 's sharp intake of breath whistled through the phone like a blade through the air. It hit me square in the chest.
    A long, painful silence stretched between us, and I wondered if she 'd hung up on me, but then she cleared her throat.
    " We'll bring the lasagna by this evening. If you're not home, we'll leave it in the freezer."
    " Mom?" I said quickly, before she could disconnect. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
    Silence.
    "Mom?" I felt lower than I had the first time I'd brought home a "C" on my report card. Her unspoken disappointment in me was practically palpable, and now, like it had then, it made me want to curl up and cry.
    " This is difficult for all of us, Vicky. We'll see you tonight, sweetheart." With that she hung up.
    Tossing my phone onto the passenger seat, I ground the heels of my palms into my eye sockets. What a day this was shaping up to be. Trying to calm down, I took a deep breath and counted to ten before exhaling slowly. Feeling marginally better, I repeated the process.
    A sharp rap against the driver's side window