Now or Never by Elizabeth Adler Read Free Book Online Page B

holding the rosemary to her nose, “I might be in Provence. I might be listening to cicadas and birdsong and the wind in the olive trees, instead of traffic and the telephone ringing.”
    She opened her eyes and looked around uneasily. She wasn’t used to leisure time. Now that she had it, she wasn’t sure what to do with it.
    Standing up, she paced the terrace again. She picked off another dead flower head, frowning up at the lowering clouds as the first large drops of rain plopped down. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Within secondsit was a downpour. Wrapping her robe around her, she fled back indoors.
    The phone was ringing again. She ran to the study to answer it, stopping as the answering machine clicked on. She reminded herself that a break was what she needed. That meant no phone calls.
    She hesitated, glancing at the machine. There was no harm in seeing who had called, just to make sure they hadn’t all forgotten her.
    She listened to twelve messages and was bored by the time she got to Beth Hardy’s at number thirteen.
    “Sorry to interrupt your peace and quiet,” Beth said, “but there’s a touch of urgency to this one. Remember the BU student? The one who was raped and murdered? You asked me to get the research team onto it in case you got interested? Well, a Detective Harry Jordan called from Boston this morning. He wants you on the case. I told him your schedule was fully booked and you were on vacation. He seemed pretty pissed off that you weren’t available, but I thought you would want to know anyway. Meanwhile, I hope you’re having fun, or at least a rest. Oh, by the way, I have his office number, and his home number too. Unlisted. Pretty fancy for a cop, huh? Just thought I’d pass that on to you. Here they are, just in case,” she added again, with a laugh.
    Mal sank into the rose-patterned chair in front of the desk. She hadn’t forgotten the young girl who had been so brutally raped and killed.
    “Summer Young,” she said out loud. It was such a magical name, she knew the parents must have loved their daughter very much. She pulled her bare feet up onto the chair and clasped her arms around her knees, staring into space, thinking. Then she picked up the phone and called Detective Jordan.
    His office number rang ten times before his machine answered.
    “No wonder you need help, detective,” she said irately into the phone. “I almost didn’t wait to leave a message, the darn machine took so long. Do me a favor and try for only three rings in future. It saves my time and my temper. You know where to reach me. Oh, by the way, it’s Mallory Malone.”
    Irritated by him already, she slammed down the receiver and stalked into the kitchen. She filled the kettle, drumming her fingers impatiently on the polished limestone countertop while she waited for it to boil. She put a Wild Berry Zinger teabag into a pink-flowered mug and poured the boiling water over it, stirring until it was brewed red enough. Then she grabbed a slab of no-fat lemon pound cake and marched back into the sitting room.
    She ate the cake in two minutes flat.
“You
made me do that, Detective Harry Jordan,” she said out loud, guiltily assessing the calories. And then she laughed. “Darn it, what I really need is a good dinner. I can’t even remember the last time I ate when it wasn’t on the run. Or else on my own. And what fun is that?”
    Bored, she picked up the phone from the coffee table and dialed Jordan’s home number.
    Harry was just walking in the door. He was wearing gray shorts, a sweat-wet gray T-shirt, and scuffed sneakers, and he was wheeling a twelve-speed Nishiki mountain bike and carrying a helmet. Squeeze got to the phone before he did, but the snooze-button trick was the extent of his technical abilities. He just barked joyfully at it.
    “Out of the way, dog. This is man stuff.” Harry hurled himself into the chair and grabbed the receiver.
    “Yeah, Jordan here,” he said, still