Weddings Can Be Murder by Connie Shelton Read Free Book Online

Scotch resting on coasters. Maybe it was a sign that Ron
was beginning to unwind a little.
    “Elsa said something to me while she was
stacking those fliers earlier,” Drake said after offering me a
drink. (I opted for the wine.) “She asked if Victoria had always
lived in Albuquerque.”
    “She has.” Ron didn’t even look up from his
lap.
    “I suppose we could try going way back in
her past,” I said. “See if she’s been in touch with old school
chums or previous co-workers?”
    This time Ron did look up. “I wouldn’t know
where to start. Ever since she opened her own business, it’s all
been about clients and suppliers. It’s been years since she worked
for an employer and she rarely talks about her childhood. All I
know is that her mother raised her alone and died fairly
young.”
    “Maybe Kent Taylor will let us get to her
business files so we can search out some more names.” Drake offered
the idea but I had my doubts.
    If Taylor had any reason to believe
Victoria’s disappearance was tied to her business, he’d have
already confiscated those files.

Chapter 6
     
    October, 1978 – Miami, Florida
     
    Juliette Mason gave her curly brown hair a
shake and plumped the long spirals into place. Dark eye makeup,
pale pink on the lips—getting this aspect of her appearance right
was the easy part. She glanced toward her bed where she’d laid out
several clothing choices. The short skirt with lime-green diagonal
stripes was cute, her favorite outfit, but was it right for a job
interview? This interview?
    She’d received the inside tip from a
neighbor whose brother’s son’s best friend worked for Pro-Builder
Construction. The city’s largest contractor was looking for a
secretary, and rumor had it the boss liked them young and pretty.
Juliette knew that attitude was sexist—half her friends considered
themselves feminists and were in on the bra-burning craze—but at
this point she needed a job, one that paid better than the minimum
wage position at the auto parts store. Hell, the guys at the store
hit on her all the time, anyway. Why not let some old geezer flirt
for a lot more pay?
    The blue pantsuit was the most businesslike,
the one her mother would have chosen if she were still alive. The
belted jumpsuit was classy, a tangerine polyester that looked
almost like silk, but it really was more appropriate for evening
with a few gold chains added around her neck. She reached for the
short skirt and matching pullover top.
    Forty minutes later she stepped off the bus,
hiked her faux-leather bag strap over her shoulder and walked the
half block to the address she’d been given. The squatty concrete
building didn’t say much about the success of the contractor, but
the Pro-Builder sign was right there. She supposed a construction
firm could build fabulous steel and glass high-rises for others
even if they operated their own business out of a couple thousand
square feet on a few acres of fenced dirt lot.
    The concrete structure was free of
ornamentation but there were wide windows on all sides and she saw
desks inside. With luck, she might get one of those. Anything that
showed blue sky and palm trees would be better than her current
cubbyhole on the mezzanine above the auto parts store, where the
nauseous reek of new tires never went away. She pulled the tinted
glass door open and went inside.
    She barely had time for a quick impression
of the interior—nicer than she’d imagined, with some kind of stone
flooring, earth-toned upholstery on the chairs, good quality wood
furniture. A hallway led toward the back of the building and two
closed doors concealed other rooms.
    “Can I help you?” The husky voice came from
a receptionist who was in her forties with blond hair in a classic
upsweep from a decade ago. Her makeup was perfect, her clothes
stylish and her nails painted to match her lips. While Juliette
searched for the name of the man she was to see, the woman took a
long draw on her