Suspicion of Malice by Barbara Parker

Author:Barbara Parker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2000-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Gail and Karen waved from the front porch as the rental car backed out of the driveway, and Dave tooted the horn. An ache formed in Gail's throat, and she took deep breaths until she was sure it wouldn't work into anything more. The car disappeared around a bend in the street.

"Are you going to miss him a lot, sweetie?"

"Sure, but I am soooo glad to be home." Karen turned her face up. "Can I go over to Anita's and watch a movie? She asked me to. Okay? Mom, it's so boring sitting around talking all day. No offense."

"Well, if you're soooo bored . . ." Gail kissed her. "Sure. Have a good time. I can find something to do with myself for a couple of hours."

When Karen was gone, Gail looked in her organizer for the phone number Diane Cresswell had given her. She had planned to go see her early on Monday, but this would be better. She sat on the side of her bed and made the call. Diane was at the cottage, and she told Gail to come around one o'clock.

In exchange for legal advice about a portrait, Gail would see the place where Roger Cresswell had been murdered. Gail thought briefly about telling Senor Quintana about it, but dropped that idea. He might want to come along. She found a notebook and pen, then went into the kitchen to fix herself a glass of iced tea.

Irene was on the back porch reading the newspaper and sneaking a cigarette. Gail could see her through the sliding glass door.

Two days ago Gail had told her about seeing Anthony Quintana. She wouldn't have mentioned it at all if she hadn't needed to know about the Cresswells. Irene had promised to find out what she could, but she'd been more interested in Anthony. What had he said? How had he acted? Gail had told her that nothing had changed between them, and the sooner this case was over, the better.

Gail slid open the door, and Irene hurriedly crushed out her cigarette as if Gail hadn't already seen it. On the patio, hanging baskets and big terra cotta planters of palms and bougainvillea cut the glare on white decking tile. Ceiling fans spun briskly, making a breeze. Water poured from the mouth of a decorative frog into the pool, and patterns of light danced on the screen.

Irene was wearing lime green half-glasses she had picked up at a gift store in Key West. A bit much with the red hair, but Irene had once said that God never intended everything in the world to be beige. She looked over the top of the arts section. "Did you and Dave have a nice walk?"

Gail put her notebook and pen on the patio table. "Lovely. We caught up on Karen, and he told me he's doing well. He's happy."

"He does seem to be." She turned a page. Her eyes were fixed on Gail.

Carrying her iced tea to the pool, Gail kicked off her sandals.

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