An Eye For Murder by Libby Fischer Hellmann

Author:Libby Fischer Hellmann
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Single mothers/ Fiction, Foreman, Fiction / Mystery & Detective / General, Fiction / Mystery & Detective / Women Sleuths, Single mothers, Independent filmmakers - Illinois - Chicago, Murder - Investigation - Illinois - Chicago, Women motion picture producers and directors/ Fiction, Chicago (Ill.), Independent filmmakers, Murder, Mystery fiction, Independent filmmakers/ Fiction, Murder/ Investigation/ Fiction, Ellie (Fictitious character), Women motion picture producers and directors
ISBN: 9781615950928
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2002-11-19T14:00:00+00:00

I was trying to figure out how to avoid cooking dinner that evening when the phone rang, and a clipped female voice asked, “Is this the residence of Ellie Foreman?”

“Yes.”

“This is Iris Spencer, the librarian from the Rogers Park branch.”

Miss Finkel redux. “Yes. I remember.” I looked out the window. The late afternoon sun shimmered through the locust tree, its fronds swaying gently in the breeze.

“I found your number behind the counter. You wanted to talk to Clarence Ramsey.”

Boo Boo. “That’s right. It was thoughtful of you to remember. But I did—”

She cut me off, her voice quavering. “We got some bad news today. Clarence was shot. About three blocks from here. He’s…he’s in critical condition.”

The afternoon sun suddenly turned garish and hard.

“The police believe it was gang related.”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I forced out words. “Boo Boo wasn’t in a gang.”

“It was a drive-by.”

Black rimmed the edges of my vision. Through the window I was dimly aware of a small child racing around on a tricycle, followed by another hauling a red wagon. The librarian went on. “I have such little time with them, you see. There’s only so much I can do.”

I heard the pain in her voice. “You did more for him than you know.”

“It’s never enough.” She drew in a breath.

I asked what hospital he was in.

“Do you expect you’ll come for a visit?”

“I…I don’t know.” My head felt light and spongy, too big for my body. I rubbed the back of my neck. I pictured Boo Boo on the computers at the library, tapping into virtual worlds of knowledge. I’d assumed words and books and ideas would somehow gild him, protect him from the life in the ’hood. The roar of an airplane droned overhead. “But when you hear something, could you let me know?”

“Of course.”

There was a moment of silence. I broke it with a question. “Do they know who did it? Were there any witnesses?”

“A couple across the street apparently saw a beige or tan car. The police are looking for it.”

I gripped the phone so hard that a sharp pain shot through my fingers. “A Cutlass?”

“I’m not sure of the model.” There was another moment of silence. “Well, I thought you’d want to know.”

“Thank you.”

Hanging up, I wrapped my arms around my knees. Ever since I’d taken Skull’s cartons, bad things were happening. Ruth Fleishman was dead. My house had been robbed. Now Boo Boo was fighting for his life. And the one link among them was a tan car.

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