Relative Chaos by Kay Finch Read Free Book Online Page B

catch
him-"
    "Were cops chasing him?" My heart thudded so hard, I had to
grab onto a bar stool to steady myself.
    "Nobody was chasing him," Doug said, using his are-you-anidiot-or-what tone. "Not yet. But this is a thirty-mile-per-hour zone.
He's had enough tickets to paper the walls of the Galleria."
    "I'm not worried about a traffic ticket, Doug."

    "Why should you? I always end up paying the freight."
    I bit my lip. He didn't want to go there with me-not after my
pitiful divorce settlement. I said, "Are you sure it was Kevin?"
    "Of course I am. Who could mistake that dirty heap of-"
    "Okay, let's say it was Kevin."
    "I'm telling you, it was him, and I've spent enough on that kid-"
    "Stop harping about money!" I yelled. "He's not a kid anymore,
and worse things are going on."
    Doug lowered his voice. "What's wrong with you, Pen?"
    "Are you at your office?" I said.
    "Yeah."
    "Stay put. I'm coming over. It's important."
    Ten minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot behind the real estate
office. A gray BMW occupied the reserved spot that had belonged to
me during the twenty years I'd run the place. I parked, hurried around
the building, and barged through the front door.
    Doug's thirty-something girlfriend-more specifically, the woman
he'd slept with while we were married-looked up from a cluttered
desk and gave me her best fake smile.
    "If you aren't the last person I'd ever expect to see come through
those doors," she drawled, "I don't know who is."
    "Hello, Brandi." I closed the door behind me. "Nice to see you
too. Doug's expecting me."
    "He is?" She stood, knocking over a pile of file folders stacked on
the floor next to her desk.
    Brandi's curly red hair normally hung halfway down her back, but
today she wore it up-twisted and fastened haphazardly in a clip. Her
lipstick had worn off, and her tanning-bed complexion had faded. No
doubt the price of becoming the woman in Doug Cartwright's selfcentered life.
    I scanned the messy room. Her taking my place here, in what
used to be my immaculate office, bothered me a thousand times more
than her sleeping in Doug's bed. Not wanting to dwell on the disarray, I crossed to his office quickly and rapped on the door, then went
in without waiting for an invitation.
    He was on the phone but hung up when he saw me. "Whatever's
so all-fired important, make it quick. I have a two o'clock."

    I plopped into a blue-striped visitor chair. "Cancel it."
    "No can do." He looked like he wanted to rail on, but my expression must have stopped him. "What is it?"
    So I spilled the whole awful story, beginning with my discovery
of the body in Aunt Millie's garage and ending with the news that
the cops thought they had a likely suspect for the murder-namely,
our son, Kevin.
    "My God." Doug pushed his chair back from the desk. "You think
he's running from the law?"
    "No." I ran my hands through my hair. "I don't know. Why's he
running at all? Why did he have to leave town now, all of a sudden?"
    "Have you talked to Grayson?"
    "No, and since he spent the night with me, and their apartment
phone is disconnected, I figure that relationship is over" Thank God.
    "Too bad," Doug said. "She sure was a nice gal."
    I glared at him. "Wipe that smirk off your face. I came here for
help, not for you to fantasize about a girl young enough to be your
daughter"
    He did his best to look offended. "What do you expect from me?"
    "I can't believe you don't care what's happening, or what might
happen to Kevin if we don't do something."
    Doug smacked his palm on the desk. "I care, but what in God's
name do you want me to do?"
    "Help me think. Who can we call? Who would Kevin confide in?"
    "The guys in his band," Doug suggested. "Why don't you call
them?"
    "Duh," I said. "Because I don't know who they are. Do you?"
    "No." He slumped in his chair, then perked up. "Wait a minute. I
might know somebody who can help." He picked up his phone, dialed
a number, and walked to the window.
    After