Where the Bones are Buried by Jeanne Matthews Read Free Book Online

her tongue. Swan’s track record with men might not comport with the Christian concept of family values, but she wasn’t the tramp Margaret made her out to be. In fact, Dinah would bet that her mother had never once had extramarital sex. She was a stickler for marriage, even if the marriages didn’t last. The only reason she’d given for divorcing Cleon was his habit of leaving her alone so often while he traveled on business. Dinah suspected there was more to it than that, but Swan had married Hart Pelerin soon after the divorce. He undoubtedly had a hand in wooing her away from Cleon.
    Margaret must have sensed her annoyance. She said, “I shouldn’t dis Swan. She paid my way over here and she’s trying to help me get back on my feet with a cut of Reiner’s money. I’m sorry if I was out of line.”
    â€œForget it.” Dinah glanced at her watch. Swan ought to be finished with her primping by now. She dropped the ropes of uneaten Dinkelbrot onto her plate and wiped her hands. “Let’s go up to your room and discuss some more pros and cons.”
    They took the elevator to the second floor. Margaret stuck the key card into the slot and opened the door. The curtains were open and the room dappled with splotches of tenuous sunlight. A vase of dahlias rested on the table between two queen beds and the hum of a hairdryer emanated from the bathroom.
    â€œCome out and talk to us, Mom. You’re spiffy enough.”
    She didn’t answer and Dinah tapped on the door. “Mom?”
    Still no answer.
    She turned the knob and peeped inside. The hairdryer lay humming on the side of the basin, but Swan was gone.

Chapter Seven
    Dinah took out the number Thor had given her and opened her phone. She had no choice now. Her mother had been abducted. She said, “It must have been Hess. He had to have taken her out past the front desk. Go ask them, Margaret, while I talk to the police.”
    â€œWait. She left a note. Gone ahead to meet Florian at his art gallery and run some errands. Y’all don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but here’s the address .”
    It didn’t sound like it was written under duress, and Swan was notoriously absentminded. Maybe she just set down the dryer and walked away, negligent as a child. The address she gave was on the Kurfürstenstrasse near Breitscheidplatz, one of the busiest squares in the city.
    Dinah stopped off briefly at her apartment, with Margaret on her coattails like a stick-tight. She hid the Indian doll in her bureau and took out the Smith & Wesson snub-nosed revolver that Thor had given her. She stowed it in the center pocket of her shoulder bag and tried again to dissuade Margaret. “You’re sick. You should stay inside or you’ll catch pneumonia.”
    â€œBring it on. They don’t call it the old person’s friend for nothing.”
    â€œGood grief, Margaret. You should be on Prozac.”
    They walked to the U-bahn station at Hausvogteiplatz, around the corner from the apartment. At the station entrance, Dinah reviewed her subway map. She jogged down the stairs to the trains, hoping to lose Margaret in the crowd milling around the tracks, but the woman proved remarkably spry for an old boiler with a head cold. Dinah stuffed a few coins in the ticket dispenser and hopped aboard the train at the last minute. Margaret squeaked through the closing doors in the nick of time, ticketless.
    They found seats across from a young couple in soccer-flag T-shirts and cutoffs. They had matching leg tattoos from ankles to knees, stretched earlobes with silver flesh tunnels, and a bottle of beer, which they passed back and forth between them.
    â€œIf I’d known you could drink on the train, I’d have brought a traveler,” muttered Margaret.
    â€œYou can’t want a drink at this hour. It’s not yet ten.”
    â€œI’m still on Georgia time.”
    As the train