Kill and Tell by Linda Howard

Author:Linda Howard [Howard, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3, pdf
Tags: Vietnam War, Detective and Mystery Stories, New Orleans (La.), Murder, Military, History
ISBN: 9781416517108
Google: 7B5WrueiygwC
Amazon: 0743475488
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 1998-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 11

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Dragging her suitcase, Karen let herself into her apartment. Grimly, without letting herself look at the answering machine because she knew the little red light would be blinking like a caution light, she went into the bedroom and completely unpacked. She took her time about it, hanging what she hadn't worn back in the closet and separating everything else into two piles, one for the laundry and one for the dry cleaner.

She watered her plants, put the laundry in the washing machine, then called her floor supervisor. "Judy, hi, it's Karen. I'm home, and I can go back to work tonight if you need me."

"If I need you?" Judy Camliffe echoed in heartfelt relief. "Marietta's been out with strep throat for two days, and Ashley called in sick today, too."

"What's wrong with Ashley?"

"The brown flu. So hell, yes, I need you. The question is, do you need to come back so soon? I'll manage tonight, somehow, if you need another day."

"Thanks," Karen said, meaning it. Judy was under a lot of pressure to keep her floor running smoothly with fewer nurses than ever, since the hospital wasn't immune to cutbacks. Five years ago, there were twelve registered nurses on the surgical floor, four per shift. Now there were eight whom Judy had to juggle among three shifts and two off days per nurse each week. Some nights there was only one RN on duty. The rumor was they would be going on twelve-hour shifts before the end of the year. "But I'm okay; the funeral was yesterday, and I flew home this morning."

"Really? I looked for the obituary, but I didn't see it."

"He's buried in Louisiana. I didn't have a plot for him here, and one of the detectives suggested I bury him there for the time being. Mom would have wanted them to be buried together, and there's no room beside her, so I'll have to find another place and have them both moved…" Her voice trailed off. She was vaguely surprised at herself. She liked Judy, considered her a friend, but she wasn't in the habit of rambling on about her private problems even to Piper, who was her closest friend. But mentioning Marc even indirectly rattled her so much she could barely think coherently; her heartbeat jumped into overdrive, her stomach clenched, her breasts tightened, her mouth watered. The symptoms of panic and sexual desire jumbled together, just as they had that morning when she had awakened in bed with him.

"Gee, that's tough," Judy said. "Uh, I hate to ask, but did you get a copy of the death certificate or maybe an obituary in the New Orleans paper? You have to have one of them to get paid for the days you were off."

"I have a copy of his death certificate." Marc had gotten it for her. She didn't know how long it would normally have taken, but he had sweet-talked someone in the medical examiner's office into processing the paperwork. Her heartbeat did another sprint.

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