Tara Holloway 03 - Death, Taxes, and Extra-Hold Hairspray by Diane Kelly Read Free Book Online Page B

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    Things had seemed to suddenly change for Noah when he turned twenty-two. He began taking classes at the local community college, was later admitted to Iowa State, and went on to divinity school.
    Had he found God then?
    Maybe.
    Or perhaps he’d discovered something else.
    He’d married his wife, Marissa, a decade ago, when both of them were in their late twenties and Noah’s career had just begun to take off. The couple had no children. Whether their childless state was by choice or due to fertility issues was unknown.
    A recent photo of the couple from the Ark’s Web site showed that Fischer was indeed a much-changed man. Though he was still lean, he no longer looked scrawny. Gone, too, were the buckteeth and too-large nose, replaced by a perfect set of pearly whites and a schnoz in exact proportion with his other facial features.
    Eddie Bardin, my usual partner, walked into my office. Eddie was tall and thin, with skin the color of black coffee. The guy was a sharp dresser with a sharp mind. Even his calculator was a Sharp brand model.
    He plopped down in one of the two chairs facing my desk and grasped his head in his hands as if to prevent his skull from exploding. “Being director sucks.”
    Only three weeks ago he’d been thrilled when the Lobo asked him to fill her shoes—or should I say go-go boots?—while she’d be out for her cancer treatments and recovery.
    “What’s so sucky about it?”
    “Everything!” Eddie rested his elbows on his knees now and slumped forward in the chair, his blue silk tie hanging like a cut noose from his neck. “I’m buried in paperwork, I rarely get to leave my office, and I have to listen to the staff whine all day about stupid shit.”
    “What kind of stupid shit?”
    “The stupidest. Viola’s on a rampage about parking. The new clerk in the records department has been parking in Vi’s usual spot. I reminded Vi that parking isn’t reserved, but she said she’s parked there for thirty years, everyone knows it’s her spot, and she wants me to do something about it.”
    “She’s got a point,” I said. “Thirty years is a long time.”
    Eddie frowned. “Whose side are you on?”
    “Yours, buddy.” I hooked my two index fingers together in a sign of solidarity. “Always yours.”
    He glanced at the clock on my wall, noted it was two minutes after five, and reached up to loosen his tie. “The second Viola left my office, Josh came in pitching a fit because someone stole a Twinkie from the box he keeps in his desk.”
    I grimaced. “Sorry, boss. That was me.”
    Eddie shot me a pointed look. “Tara, please. You know Josh gets his Underoos in a bunch when anyone touches his stuff. You can buy Twinkies from the vending machine in the break room.”
    “I know,” I said. “But I was a nickel short.” Plus it was kind of fun to put Josh’s undies in a bunch. He could be a bit of a twerp sometimes.
    Eddie pulled his wallet from his pocket, fished out a dollar bill, and laid it on my desk. “Do me a favor. Go buy him a Twinkie so he’ll shut up.”
    “Will do.” I slid the dollar into my pocket. “I guess this isn’t a good time to tell you I had to fire my gun yesterday.”
    Eddie threw his hands in the air. “You’re killing me, Tara.”
    “August Buchmeyer shot at us first,” I said. “The hearing will be a slam dunk in my favor.”
    “Let’s hope so.” He stood to leave. “By the way, I assigned Nick to work with you on the Ark case.”
    My heart lurched in my chest. After the awkward conversation in the car last night, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea for Nick and me to be alone together. In fact, I’d purposely avoided him all afternoon, waiting until I saw him walk into his office with his postlunch can of Red Bull before going to the kitchen to fill my coffee mug, timing my potty breaks just after his, keeping my door partially closed so our gazes wouldn’t accidentally meet across the hall.
    “Why Nick?” I asked.
    “Pastor