Paloma: A Laurent & Dove Mystery by Linda A. Lavid Read Free Book Online

sizable fortune. “How long have you been in business?”
    “Mamá opened the shop over fifty years ago.” She stopped at a couch. “Would this be comfortable? Or would you prefer to sit by the window?”
    “No, this is fine,” Max said and relaxed into the sofa.
    “Can I get you a drink?”
    Max recalled the previous night’s losing streak and consoling shots of brandy. He wasn’t a kid anymore. Drinking, like sex, had recovery time, that as he aged, was decidedly longer. “No thanks.”
    Daisy settled into the opposite end of the couch.
    “Have the arrangements been made?” Max asked.
    “Yes. It only took one call. The funeral director sounds very nice and capable.”
    “Anything I can do?” 
    “Nothing I can think of.”
    “How are you doing?”
    “Better.”
    “That’s good.”
    With a weak smile, Daisy looked around the room. “Mamá started the business from nothing, taught me everything. It wasn’t always easy. She worked hard and was very successful. When I think about her life, I feel better. She did things her way.”
    “That’s a fine legacy.”    
    “Of course we had our moments. But mothers and daughters are like that, don’t you think?”
    “I’m afraid I don’t know. I never had children.”
    “Yes, but you were once a child with parents of your own. Did you always get along with them?”
    Both of Max’s parents were stoic. His relationship with them had been distant. “We did have our disagreements but tended to keep them to ourselves. We rarely argued.”
    Daisy gave a rueful smile  “How families can be so different. Mamá and I…well, sometimes that’s all we ever did.”
    “Love can be expressed in many ways.”
    “How insightful. Yes, you’re right.”
    For a moment, Max became distracted – Daisy’s eyes were no longer blue, but a deep chestnut color.
    “I roasted a chicken and I hope you like rice and beans.”
    “Sounds delicious.”
    “It’s always been comfort food for me,” she said with an engaging smile.
    “You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.”
    “Cooking relaxes me.”
    “I wish I could say the same.”
    “If you don’t cook, how do you manage?”
    “Drink a lot of coffee. Canned soup’s always good. And I am capable of a tuna fish sandwich.”
    “Sounds like you’re always on the run. Tell me, what sort of work are you in?”
    “Actually, I’m retired.”
    “Really?”
    “You sound surprised.”
    “Surprised? Well…You look too young to be retired.”
    “You’re very kind.”
    “So you’ve known my friend Paloma for sometime? Did you two go to school together?”
    Max smiled at Daisy. She was giving herself away. He was eight years older than Agnes, and looked it. There was no way they could have met in school. Either Daisy was daft or she was trying awfully hard to be flattering. 
    “No. I met her at my job. She was a witness in a police brutality case I was working on.”
    “Really? She never told me that.” 
    “And how did you meet Paloma?”
    “She knew my mother first. They both lived in the Village. I met her at the shop and we hit it off.”
    “Did she work for your mother?”
    “Oh, no.”  
    “She was a collector then?”
    “A collector?”
    “I thought she had an interest in books.”
    “Books? No, definitely not. By the way, what kind of business were you in before you retired?”
    The change of topic was obvious. “I was an agent for the FBI.”
    “How fascinating.”
    But if Max was reading Daisy correctly, she didn’t think it was ‘fascinating’. Her eyes  diverted away and her crossed leg began to shake. She was either getting nervous or wasn’t telling the truth. Possibly both.
    “Yeah, I had a long run. Worked there thirty-two years.”
    “Since your retirement, do you remain on active status?”
    “I’m not sure what you mean.”
    “Like some type of honorary agent.”
    “No, once you’re retired, that’s pretty much it. Why do you ask?”
    “Just curious.”
    An