Read Bernadine Fagan - Nora Lassiter 01 - Murder by the Old Maine Stream for Free Online Page A

that to me all the time when I was a kid.
    “Goes both ways,” I heard him fire back. With that, Ellie spun on her heel and left. I tried to look casual, as if I wasn’t eavesdropping, as I edged around the ficus. I examined a leaf with feigned interest, amazed to find it real. I once bought a real ficus and it lost all its leaves within a month. These Maine people knew a lot about plants. They could grow anything. I was a plastic plant person myself.
    JT came over the minute he spotted me. “How’s the car holding up? When you’re ready to buy instead of rent, you should go over to the Auto Mart. They’ll give you a good deal.”
    “I’ll stick with the rental for now. I have to call them about the insurance. They should cover the money I paid out to have repairs made.”
    Wearing jeans and a green plaid shirt, he smelled like cigar smoke and beer.
    “Still, buyin’s your best option.”
    “I won’t be here that long. Leaving Monday.” I paused. “JT, can you tell me the real reason Dad left Silver Stream?” I asked, getting right to the point, not interested in his chit-chat.”
    He hesitated, “Come by Monday after the will’s read. We’ll talk.”
    I didn’t like being put off. I watched him as he made he way to the buffet table, and couldn’t help wondering why he was stalling and what it was that he didn’t want me to know.
    Nick Renzo arrived. My stomach did a little fluttery rotation. I was glad I looked better than the last time I’d seen him. My streaky blond hair, as Hannah calls it, which falls to my shoulders, looked like a shampoo commercial tonight. I know this because I was swinging it back and forth pretending I was in one of those commercials as I looked in the mirror. Shallow, shallow, shallow my mother would have said, and she’d have been right.
    I had chosen my outfit with great care, a sky blue, soft-as-velvet lambskin jacket with an asymmetrical zipper up the front, and matching slim leather skirt. Men had told me I had a sexy caboose, and I knew this skirt accented it, which is why I bought it. Worse than shallow, Nora.
    I watched Nick remove his shoes and slip into orange, day-glo scuffs? Good grief. Subtract a couple of points.
    “Hello,” I said. “Didn’t know you were a Lassiter. Or a close family friend?”
    “I’m a Renzo. Nobody was checking ancestry at the door so I slipped in.”
    “Security’s loose here.”
    Fortunately, I had no intention of falling for this guy so I was relatively safe. Not only was I leaving soon, but I know a thing or two about cops. My father was a cop, and though I loved him, the hours he worked were horrible and the danger was worse, so I put cops on my negative-guy list.
    “Love your slippers,” I remarked.
    “A gift. My mother picked them up at some big sale.”
    “Oh.” It’s not good to criticize a person’s mother, so I clamped my mouth shut.
    “I don’t like them,” Nick said, “but it would be a waste not to use them, don’t you think?”
    “Absolutely. Thrifty you.”
    “Umm.”
    “Instead of wearing them you could stand on your roof and direct airplane traffic, I suppose.”
    The man actually smiled. Then he told me he’d talked to Mary Fran.
    He waited for me to say something.
    “The aunts thought my old ‘friend’ should be here. She’s coming tonight,” I said, wondering whether she’d told him about our agreement, hoping she hadn’t. It would be better if no one knew that I was playing detective. As it was, I felt a little guilty taking money under false pretenses. I would give it all back if I couldn’t do the job.
    His stare made me uncomfortable. “You can’t be serious about working for her.”
    My heart sunk a little, but I tried not to show it. “She told you?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m taking the case,” I told him, watching his expression, wondering if he knew the truth about my detective status, and wondering whether he was going to call me a fraud.
    He took a Bud Light instead.
    “If