Raisin the Dead by Karoline Barrett Read Free Book Online Page A

put them on the front page. If you ask me, Serafina isn’t here because of some guy, or to forget about business. I bet it’s something deeper. Sinister.”
    He snickered. “‘Sinister’? I thought only Nancy Drew used that word. Anyway, babe, if you read the paper, you know everything I do.”
    I doubted that I knew everything Sean knew. I also knew him well enough to know I could push him only so far. I understood that he wasn’t at liberty to talk about the details of Philip’s death. I did notice though, that he still hadn’t flat-out said that Philip hadn’t been murdered. Nor had he assured me that my mother wasn’t a suspect, the French toast offer notwithstanding. I sighed. I was being ridiculous. I needed to concentrate on cupcakes.
    We walked towards the center of town, past pastel row houses that wealthy Destiny citizens once occupied. Now, college students thundered up and down the stairs and roamed the narrow hallways of each home. The sun sparkled off the blue water of Destiny Lake in the background.
    I looked up at Sean. “You want to come to the beach with me tomorrow? It’s going to be another hot day. The dogs will love it.”
    Sean grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. “I’d love to, but I’ve got to go to work.”
    â€œOn Sunday?” I asked as we crossed the street.
    â€œYeah. I want to be there when the horses arrive. I’m having a meeting with the chief afterwards. With so many guys out sick, we need to redo our schedule. I won’t be home until late.”
    â€œPoor thing. Hope you get some sleep. Are the stables done?” We parked ourselves on one of the wooden benches in front of Manganiello’s Pizza. The dogs settled in under the shade of a tree behind us.
    â€œYeah, they were finished last week. Let me know when you’re free, I’ll bring you to see them.”
    â€œI’d love that.” The Destiny Police Department had recently received a grant from the state to add a small mounted unit to the police department. Sean was in charge. Three Percheron Thoroughbred Appaloosas were arriving from Pratt Equestrian Farm, about fifty miles away. “Can I ride one?”
    He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Have you ever ridden?”
    â€œDoes riding a pony at my cousin’s birthday party when I was eight count?”
    He laughed and squeezed my hand. “I don’t think so. Even if you were a gold medal–winning rider I couldn’t let you ride. Insurance, public safety, and all that stuff.”
    â€œThen I’ll settle for a tour of the stables and a nuzzle from the horses after I feed them carrots and apples. What about you, do you ride?”
    â€œI can hold my own.” He got up and stretched. “Ready to walk back?”
    I reluctantly got up. The dogs looked less than thrilled to have their snoozes disturbed. I laughed at their woeful expressions. “Where did a city boy learn to ride a horse?”
    â€œMy family has a summer house in the Poconos and they board horses there. I rode as much as possible when I was young.”
    â€œI always wanted a horse.”
    â€œConsider yourself invited the next time I join my family in Pennsylvania.”
    â€œI can’t wait. You want to come over for dinner?” I asked. “I made vegetable lasagna last week. There’s still lots in the freezer.”
    â€œOh, yeah. I’d be crazy to pass up your lasagna, even without the meat. Never thought I’d develop a taste for tofu. I’ve got a bottle of Holly Valley red wine. Should I bring it over?”
    â€œYum. By all means. I’ll make a salad, too.”
    We arrived back on our block in time to see a tall, thin, platinum blonde woman dressed in a flowing navy blue shift and white sandals get out of a nondescript green sedan in front of Dottie’s house. She looked more like the type to be driving a Jaguar, but maybe it