Death in the Cards by Sharon Short

Author:Sharon Short
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins

12

I was halfway down the metal stairs on the outside of my building when I lost my grasp on my heavy suitcase and it went tumbling, handle over wheels, down the steps.

“Damned suitcase,” I muttered to myself.

That’s when I remembered Ginny’s luggage. The shock of the broken water main closing down my laundromat and rousting me from my apartment had pushed it from my mind until that morning.

Even though I was eager to get to the Red Horse, I knew I had to get Ginny’s suitcase from the storage area of my laundromat and take it to Chief Worthy. The strange contents plus the handkerchief in my pocket might provide some clue that would help solve Ginny’s murder.

I hoisted my own suitcase off the ground and let myself back in my laundromat to check under my desk for Ginny’s bag.

It was gone.

Twenty minutes later, I rushed into the small building that serves as Paradise’s mayoral and council chambers, prison (only two cells), and police station. I went in the section that houses the police station and prison and saw that Jeanine was dispatcher at the front desk that day. My heart fell.

Jeanine is fifty-something, raised four kids by herself, is one of Sandy’s neighbors in the Happy Trails Motor Home Court, and has a thickly crusted battle-ax attitude. It’s her way of coping, which I understand, but it also makes her hard to deal with.

Still, I rushed past her desk without saying a word.

“Josie! What the hell do you think you’re—”

“Ladies’ room,” I said, rushing past Jeanine’s desk to a tiny hallway to the left that led to the men’s and women’s rooms. Technically, I was supposed to sign in. But this was an emergency. Jeanine would understand, I was sure.

A few minutes later, I was back in front of Jeanine’s desk, feeling much relieved. Plus I liked the freesia scent of the new bottle of hand sanitizer in the women’s room. That had to be Jeanine’s touch. None of the men, certainly not Chief Worthy, would think of such a thing. I told Jeanine as much.

“Want to fill out a comments form complimenting me on it?” Jeanine asked wryly, in her cigarette husky voice. “Maybe it’ll get me a good evaluation and fifty cents more an hour.”

I laughed. “Sure, I’ll take a comment card. I’ll fill it in later and drop it off.”

Jeanine rolled her eyes. “That’s what they all say.”

“Fine. I’ll do it now.”

She pushed a card at me and watched, suspiciously, as I filled it out. When I finished, she plucked the card from me, and read my praise of her ingenuity and attention to detail that make living in Paradise a far more pleasant experience.

She looked at me, eyebrows lifted. But I could see a bit of softening in her eyes.

I smiled. “I need to see Chief Worthy.”

“He’s busy. If you got a complaint, you can fill out another form, then see Officer Trenton—”

I thought about asking for another comment card, but veiled threats would only harden poor Jeanine further, so instead I made puppy dog eyes.

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