Silk Stalkings by Diane Vallere Read Free Book Online Page B

crowd away from the scene and appeared to be doing a fair job of keeping them under control.
    â€œYou have help today,” I said.
    â€œCrime’s been on the rise in San Ladrón. The county approved my request for part-time help. The kid’s a little green, but he’ll do.” He turned back to me. “You said Harvey met with you to discuss the pageant. Tell me about that conversation.”
    I told him what I could. “Nolene Kelly sent him my way. She didn’t like how the pageant was becoming a competition for the wealthy. She must have told Harvey we talked and that’s why he came to my store. We brainstormed an idea for the contestants, that each competitor design her own dress, get an allotment of fabric from my store to make it.” I pausedfor a moment, thinking about how only hours ago the pageant had seemed to be a financial boon for me.
    â€œYou know, it’s not a bad idea. Might have helped put this whole thing into proportion. Did either of them say anything else?”
    I thought back to what Nolene said about Mr. Halliwell. “Not really.”
    The men in white pushed the wheeled gurney past us and loaded it into the back of a waiting ambulance. The vehicle drove off in the direction of the hospital, leaving only the presence of the police as evidence that something untoward had happened.
    â€œYou say Nolene was at your shop this morning before Harvey? Doesn’t take long to get from there to here, does it?”
    â€œA couple of minutes if you cut through the alley and the hedges,” I said. “But after last night’s party, you can access the yard from almost any angle. The gardeners have probably been working back here for hours. I don’t think many people would notice someone coming and going.”
    â€œLet me know if you remember anything else,” Clark said. He handed me one of his business cards, a formality since I practically knew the number to the police station by heart. I took the card and slipped it into the pocket of my dress.
    â€œDo I need to talk to him, too?” I asked, pointing at the younger cop.
    â€œNo, you’re free to go.”
    The hot, dry June temperature that kept most of us roasting during the day had broken as the sun went down. Californians referred to this time of year as June Gloom. It should have felt like summer, but the days were often overcast and gray. The temperatures rose to the nineties during the day, but when the sun went down, the nights dropped to the sixties. The town was sorely in need of rain, but there were no signs of it. I was unprepared for the chill in mysleeveless tank dress, so I wrapped my arms around myself and headed home. I showered off the blood that had transferred from Harvey to me, changed into black jeans and an oversized sweater, and headed out the door to Charlie’s.
    Early Van Halen spilled from Charlie’s office onto the street. I followed the sound of David Lee Roth’s voice until I saw the strange man with the white ponytail inside her office. They were arguing. Charlie’s back was to me. I stopped on the sidewalk out front, unsure if I should barge in.
    The man looked to be in his late forties. Mirrored aviator glasses were clipped to the front of his black T-shirt. I could tell from their body language that they were on opposite sides of whatever it was they discussed, but their voices must have been lowered because, aside from the occasional word, I couldn’t make out anything they said. Charlie caught me watching them. She said something to him. He put on his sunglasses and stormed out of her office, past me, and out the door.
    â€œDid I interrupt something?” I asked.
    â€œOld friend. He doesn’t like my choice of transmission fluid. What’s up?” she asked.
    I watched the man with the ponytail enter the gas station across the street. “That guy was arguing with Harvey Halliwell at the party last night. Now