When Day Breaks by Mary Jane Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

the theater district.
    Rowena finished reading the article and then studied the picture. Constance Young was photogenic, but even more attractive in person. Rowena had realized as much the day Stuart Whitaker had requested a private tour for himself and the KEY to America host. Rowena had greeted the couple when they’d arrived, and she’d been impressed with how pretty Constance was.
    Even in this newspaper picture, Constance’s hair shone and her eyes sparkled as she walked into the restaurant. That green suit she was wearing was beautifully tailored. Rowena looked harder at the picture, trying to make out what Constance Young was wearing around her neck.
    No. It couldn’t be.

CHAPTER 13
     
    T he little girls in red-and-white uniforms were gathered at the side of the field waiting for their turns at bat. Eliza watched as Janie broke from the group and made her way to home plate.
    “Remember, Janie, don’t throw the bat!” Eliza called. At last weekend’s game, Janie had carelessly tossed her bat after smacking the ball off the tee. The bat had hit her teammate Hannah in the leg.
    Janie glanced over at her mother, and for an instant Eliza wished she had cheered her daughter on to a good swing rather than calling out a warning. But Janie looked unperturbed. She positioned herself behind the raised tee, holding her bat back as she’d been coached to do.
    “She’s looking good.”
    Eliza turned toward the voice, smiling when she recognized her neighbor standing beside her. Michele Hvizdak was holding her four-year-old son’s hand.
    “Good morning. How’s it going, Michele? Is Hannah’s leg all right?”
    “Eliza, yes. Her leg’s fine. And it has been fine every one of the half dozen times you’ve asked since last weekend. Stop worrying, will you?” Michele nodded to the young players. “Look at her over there. Does she look hurt to you?”
    Hannah Hvizdak’s chestnut-colored hair flew through the air as she executed a perfect cartwheel.
    Satisfied, Eliza leaned down to Michele’s son. “Hi, Hudson. How are you today?”
    The little boy’s face lit up, but he said nothing.
    “What I’d give for those eyelashes,” said Eliza as she stood upright again. She noticed that Hudson was wearing the same sweatshirt and shoes that he’d worn at last weekend’s game, and at the game the weekend before that and at the one before that, too. Eliza knew it was a pretty good bet that Hudson had been sporting that sweatshirt on many of the week-days as well. His mother had explained his penchant for wearing the same jacket and sneakers over and over and his insistence on donning his favorite Power Ranger sweatshirt, even in the heat. Obviously, Michele had to do laundry almost every night so Hudson’s attire would be clean.
    Cheers erupted from the sidelines and Eliza looked over just in time to see Janie rounding first base. Novice fielding ensured that Janie scored a home run. Eliza was grinning and giving the thumbs-up sign to her daughter when she felt the BlackBerry vibrating in her pocket. With a sinking heart, she read the text message: URGENT. CALL RANGE BULLOCK ASAP.
     
     
     
    Eliza strode from the ball field and found a relatively quiet spot from which to make the call to Range. Urgent? That couldn’t be good. Eliza had never gotten a weekend call from the executive producer of The KEY Evening Headlines just to chat about the weather—unless, of course, there was a hurricane brewing.
    “Range. It’s me. What’s up?”
    “There’s no way to break this easily, Eliza.”
    Eliza braced herself. This must be personal. Range would normally just blurt out headlines. “What is it?”
    “Constance Young is dead.”
    “Oh, my God,” Eliza gasped as she bent at the waist to absorb the blow. “That can’t be, Range.”
    “I’m afraid it is.”
    “What happened?” she asked, closing her eyes, bracing herself for his answer.
    “Not sure. Her housekeeper found the body this morning. In the swimming