Perfect Crime

Perfect Crime by Jack Parker Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Perfect Crime by Jack Parker Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jack Parker
horizon or a building in the distance but on the kindness revealed. With a moment's silence between the two, and her guard relaxed, she forgot all about the terrifying ride, being shot at, and racing through town.
    The smile he offered was flirty as ever. "You mention this to anyone and I'll deny it." The surge of bravado served to relax her. She took comfort that no one would believe him anyway; her persona dictated a tough-as-nails, no-fear kind of woman.
    Tessa could feel the small cage go up and over. It swung softly as the weight shifted on the arc and the butterflies in the pit of her stomach, continued their little dance. The air grew thick as the breeze stilled. The ride seemed to slow.
    Scott moved, leaning closer. "Tessa."
    She blinked at the sound of her name. The spell shattered. Another breath and she realized the ride was over.
    "Everybody out," the ride operator said as he opened their door.
    Scott didn't need to be told twice nor could he unbuckle and get off the ride fast enough, making a beeline for a small souvenir kiosk on the promenade.
    Tessa hustled to keep up, trotting on her much shorter legs. "Did you see something?"
    "No...yes. Well, not really," Scott replied.
    Her companion appeared intent on a spinning rack of postcards that had caught his attention. To any bystander, he looked like nothing more than a tourist interested in the meager selection. He didn't find the one he wanted. Tessa watched as Scott held up the card they already owned, careful to conceal the words written on the back. "We're looking for another one like this," he asked the vendor, "but I don't see any on the stand."
    The clerk glanced up and took a peek at the post card. "Sorry, I don't carry that one," she said. "Must by in the gift shop at the Smith Museum of Stained Glass Windows. Try there."
    His response was bland, "I suppose that will be our next stop." Taking a few steps away, he mumbled his thoughts out loud, "How can you have an entire museum dedicated to glass? Why couldn't it be an aquarium, that's more my style."
    A soft giggle slipped between her lips. Her hand moved to her mouth to shield the grin that threatened to reveal that she could enjoy herself. Grumbling under his breath with little-boy charm, Scott had shown a side that was quite unexpected,. She relaxed into the new-found camaraderie, forgetting the tension of only a few minutes ago.
    The museum was actually less than 100 feet away from their last stop, but as they went to the door, Scott pointed out that it was closed. He read aloud the placard which indicated the museum had 150 stained glass windows on display depicting religious and cultural history, but that public tours were only available at 2 p.m. on Thursdays.
    "Fortunately, tomorrow is Thursday," he said. "I still think there's something to this location, but I guess we'll have to wait to see. Unless of course, you know someone here too?"
    "Me?
    "Happen to know the curator?"
    "Not that I'm aware of," her tone was as brisk as the wind that blew off the nearby water.
    She turned and began walking back towards the car, confident there was nothing they could do, and restless from the waiting. "The glass exhibit isn't so bad, you know. Many are from local landmarks. The front altar windows from many of the old churches are there, and they are some of the most impressive in the museum." The details she included and passion that she spoke with, revealed more than just a fan of stained glass; she'd obviously been there before.
    Scott shrugged. "Well, I guess there's nothing else to do, unless you want to wait for the fireworks?"
    Her cell phone rang. She started at the sound, looking around the pier for the musical peal before realizing that the ringtone belonged to her. For the moment, she'd forgotten she was waiting on a call. Flipping open the phone, she answered with a harried, "Yeah."
    "Tessa, it's Marcus."
    "Hey, Marcus," she said, suddenly wary, reminding herself what led to having to make a call

Similar Books

A Certain Age

Lynne Truss

Moving On

Jennii Graham

What's Better Than Money

James Hadley Chase

Star Bridge

James Gunn