Read A Job to Kill For for Free Online

Twenty minutes later, I opened the back door for Molly. She stumbled in and collapsed on the couch.
    “Are you okay?” I asked, tugging at the belt of my soft cotton Hanro robe.
    Molly had on the same neckline-plunging dress she’d worn the day before, but her makeup was streaked, her lipstick bitten off, and her perfect Japanese-straightened hair in a tangle.
    “Cassie died of arsenic poisoning,” Molly said, without bothering with any niceties. “They found it in her urine and traced it to a bottle of tea in her refrigerator.”
    “Arsenic,” I said slowly. Well, that seemed simple. Not long ago, the Russians had poisoned a former spy with rare polonium, but here in LA, we didn’t fuss that much. No need to go to elaborate lengths when you could find arsenic in everything from pressed wood to pesticides.
    “Don’t pretend you didn’t know,” said Molly. “The cop who questioned me all night said you tipped them off. You thought that since I’m so close to Roger and probably want him all to myself that I might be responsible for Cassie’s death.”
    I swung around so fast that I almost smacked Molly in the face. “Not true!” I said. My voice rang out unexpectedly loud and high-pitched—and I immediately worried that I’d woken the kids, still sleeping upstairs. On the other hand, my scream couldn’t be any more jarring than the Jay-Z CD that Ashley blared every morning on her Bose radio.
    “That’s not true,” I repeated, more calmly this time. “I never said you might be responsible.”
    “It’s precisely true,” said Molly. “At least true that the cop said it.”
    She stared at me, and I took a deep breath.
    “He’s lying,” I blurted. “I mean, not about the first part, the tipping them off, because I did tell Jack that I thought Cassie had been poisoned, and he reported it. But I never, ever, I mean never, ever, ever, said a word about you. For God’s sake, Molly, why would I do that? Even if I thought it could be true I wouldn’t say it, and it couldn’t be true so I couldn’t say it without…”
    Molly held up her hand to get me to stop babbling.
    “Okay.” She looked miserable. “I didn’t really believe the cop. I just wanted to hear a denial directly from you.”
    I sat down next to her.
    “A cop was interviewing you all night?”
    “Seemed like it. Then Roger found out and sent one of his lawyers to rescue me.”
    “I didn’t even know about you and Roger,” I said softly.
    “Nothing to know,” Molly said stoically. “We’re friends. Just like those Friends you can watch every night on three different channels. Our Central Perk just happens to be The Grill in Beverly Hills. Better coffee.”
    “Those Friends all ended up lovers, as I recall. Not to mention that at least one set got married.”
    “Roger’s already married,” Molly said.
    “ Was married,” I said emphatically.
    Molly looked at me, and our eyes locked for a long moment. Her expression changed—as if the point had finally sunk in.
    “So I’m a prime suspect,” she said slowly. She stood up and went over to the counter in the center of the kitchen, leaning her elbows against the slab of Giallo Antico granite I’d imported from a little town in northern Italy. Frankly, I’d have done better buying one of the cheap synthetic rip-offs available at any strip mall. The Umbrian original had gorgeous color and an intricate pattern, but it turned out to be way too porous to be practical. Some runny cooked carrots had caused a stain, and the counter still smelled of garlic a week after I’d made pesto sauce. I could have been twice as happy for a tenth the price.
    “Let me get this,” said Molly, walking around the granite island and patting it every few feet, as if she were playing Duck Duck Goose. “Rich man’s wife dies unexpectedly. So first suspect is the devoted friend and pining spinster, who must have knocked her off to get said rich man for herself. Is that how it goes?”
    “It’s