Still Waters by Tami Hoag Read Free Book Online Page A

bodies, or both, then tilted her bouffant sharply to the left. Murmuring a thank-you, Elizabeth headed in the direction of the pay phone that hung on the far wall while Lorraine snatched up her receiver and singed some other poor curious fool's ear.
    The phone at the other end of Elizabeth's call went unanswered for five rings before the answering machine switched on. She swore under her breath. It wasn't unusual for Trace to be late. In fact, it was the rule rather than the exception, one of his little ways of telling her he didn't like their new home, their new life-style, their new codes of conduct. The counselor in Atlanta had told her to give the boy structure; he had failed to mention how to get Trace to accept it.
    Elizabeth left her message and hung up with a sigh. Her sweet little boy had been swallowed up by a sullen youth with troubled eyes and broad, tense shoulders; a defiant, belligerent teenager. But speaking with a defiant, belligerent teenager would have been much preferable to wondering where he was on the night of the first murder in Tyler County in thirty-three years.
    She dug another quarter out of her purse, dropped it in the phone, and dialed again, then leaned a shoulder against the wall and stared across the room at Lorraine Worth. Frighteningly efficient, she sat at her station as alert as a Doberman on guard duty. On the sixth ring a muffled voice answered.
    “Yeah, what? Who? Hmm?”
    “Jolynn, it's me,” Elizabeth said, lowering her voice to the pitch of conspiracy. “Did I wake you?”
    “Stupid question. What are you, a reporter?”
    “Wake up and listen. There's been a murder.”
    “A what?”
    “Murder. Somebody killed somebody. I reckon you've seen it happen on television once or twice.” She caught Lorraine Worth glaring over at her, her head tilting like a satellite dish tuning in for maximum reception. Elizabeth scowled and turned her back to the woman so she could speak with her editor privately.
    It was Jolynn who had talked her into coming to Still Creek after the divorce, Jolynn who had talked her into buying the
Clarion
, Jolynn who was her one and only employee and nearly her only friend. Their friendship went back to El Paso and the University of Texas, a time that seemed a century in the past for all that had happened in between. Elizabeth thanked God it had endured the years of separation. After the divorce she had felt like one of those space-walking astronauts whose cord had been cut loose, just like in
2001: A Space Odyssey
. She had been adrift, in need of a place and something to anchor her to it. There had been Jolynn, telling her to come to Minnesota, where life was quiet and the people were friendly.
    A considerable amount of creaking and shuffling in the background sounded from the other end of the line, and Elizabeth easily pictured Jolynn struggling to sit up in her secondhand bed, the old springs groaning and complaining as she heaved herself up against the headboard. Jo was no more than five foot four, but she was “generously proportioned,” as she put it, and her old mattress had long since given up any pretense of providing support.
    “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Are you kidding?”
    Elizabeth blew a sigh up into her bangs. “I wish I were, sugar, but I'm not. The man is dead as Kelsey's nuts, and I ought to know, 'cause I found him.”
    “Jeez Louise,” Jo murmured reverently. “I had a migraine. I turned the scanner off and went to bed at nine o'clock. What happened?”
    “Somebody killed Jarrold Jarvis out at Still Waters. Can you get out there right away?”
    “Yeah, sure. Where are you?”
    “At the courthouse. I'm liable to be tied up here awhile. It's a long story.”
    “I'll bet. God, Jarrold Jarvis. Somebody finally got up the balls to do it.”
    “The big question is who,” Elizabeth said, twisting the telephone cord around her finger. “Can you get out there pronto? The BCA just made the scene. Them and about nine thousand