Evil Woman by Julie Mulhern

Author:Julie Mulhern [Mulhern, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: J & M Press

Chapter Eleven

Waking up next to Anarchy ranked with coffee as my favorite part of the morning. I stretched, languorous like McCallester in a pool of sunshine, then I turned toward my husband and found an empty bed.

Drat.

At least there was coffee. I threw on a robe, descended the front stairs, and navigated through furniture till I reached the kitchen. Mercifully someone had cleared a path to the coffee pot.

Good morning. Mr. Coffee’s pot was full. How are you?

I poured a mug, then added cream. “Better now.”

He offered a sympathetic grimace. What will you do about this stuff? Boxes, so many boxes, still crowded the kitchen.

I suspected Mr. Coffee wanted to use a stronger word than stuff but was too polite to swear in front of a woman.

“Libba is handling it.”

Libba? You’re sure that’s a good idea? Mr. Coffee didn’t usually second-guess. It was one of his many charms.

“She’s moving everything to Charlie’s. He needs furniture, and we have plenty. It’s a long-term loan.” If Libba took every stick of furniture, the house would still overflow with boxes. And I doubted Charlie wanted thirty-six place settings of floral china that required hand-washing.

Dr. Ardmore doesn’t mind?

“Charlie’s so busy practicing medicine and keeping Libba happy he may not notice.”

What are you doing today?

I took an enormous gulp. “Taking Lloyd Foster to the airport, then spending time with Mother.”

More coffee? It was as if he sensed my reluctance to spend hours sitting at the hospital while Mother barked at the nurses. That, or he knew my mug was near-empty.

I refilled, rested against the counter, and breathed deep.

Brnng, brnng.

I glanced at the clock. Eight fifteen. Too early for social calls. “Mother probably has a mile-long to-do list.” One that couldn’t wait till nine. I took a bracing gulp.

Brnng, brnng.

You could ignore it. No judgment. Another reason I adored Mr. Coffee.

“She’ll just call again.” Swallowing a sigh, I picked up the receiver. "Jones residence."

“Ellison?”

“This is she.”

“It’s Connie Jackson.” A near breathless Connie Jackson. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Did the police issue an arrest warrant for Prudence?”

My heart thumped an extra beat, and I put down my mug and pressed my palm to my heart. “Connie, I just rolled out of bed. I haven’t heard a thing.”

“But your husband—”

“Doesn’t discuss confidential police business with me.” Not strictly true, but he definitely didn’t want me sharing confidences. And in this case, I was truly in the dark. So annoying.

“Well, the police are looking for her. Someone in uniform banged on her front door this morning.” Connie’s source was one of Prudence’s neighbors.

Why hadn’t Anarchy told me? What had Peters found in Muriel’s car? I’d been too tired and overwhelmed to ask. Now I faced regrets. “I’m completely in the dark.”

“I assumed you’d be interested.”

My lips flattened, and I wrapped the stretched telephone cord around my finger. “Because Prudence slept with Henry?” Whatever they’d done together wasn’t sleeping.

“Well…yes.”

“Water under the bridge. Connie, listen, I need to let you go. I have to get to the hospital.”

“That’s right. Your mother. How is she?”

“On the mend.

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