Read Cover Shot (A Headlines in High Heels Mystery Book 5) for Free Online Page B

wall behind me.
    Mrs. Eason waved her hand. “Preposterous. Who would want to hurt my David?” She shut her heavily made-up eyes for a long second, sniffling as she reopened them. “I can’t believe he’s gone. He had such a gentle soul. Brilliant mind. Kind heart.”
    Her David? My fingers itched for a pad and pen. On so little sleep and so much caffeine, I hoped I could trust my brain to keep it all straight until I could write it down.
    Jeff patted her thin shoulder. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
    She blotted the corner of one eye with a lace handkerchief, squaring her shoulders and squeezing Jeff’s hand. “You’re a good boy, Jeffrey. Thank you.”
    “Drive carefully, ma’am.”
    She strode to the parking lot, folding herself behind the wheel of a Jaguar parked in the first space. Brow furrowed, Jeff watched until her taillights disappeared. I stepped forward, another glance at the elevators telling me I was safe to chat a bit more.
    “Wow. What an awful way to have to spend your day,” I said.
    “She’s a tough old bird.” Jeff smiled. “Lived through more than most people I know, and that’s saying something.”
    “Sounded like she was close to the doctor.” I held his gaze with one of friendly concern, nothing more. I practiced that look in the mirror at least a couple times a month.
    “They were friends. Getting to be closer, maybe. Her husband passed on last Christmas. She took up going to the opera with the doc. And now he’s gone too.”
    That piqued my news radar, though I couldn’t see that frail woman strangling any sort of grown man. But if the husband was dead, too…
    “How heartbreaking. How did her husband die?” I was so curious, I forgot to be indirect.
    “Heart stopped.”
    “Was he ill?”
    Jeff eyed me a little warily. Oops.
    “Just curious,” I said hastily. Still true. “You might call it a bad habit.” I widened my eyes and flashed a grin for effect.
    He smiled. “No worries. There was a tangle of reporters out front all afternoon and evening. I imagine they’ll be here again today. Too damned nosy for their own good.”
    I held the smile and nodded. Oh, boy.
    “It was a sudden thing,” Jeff said. “Mr. Eason. He was pretty fit, for an old guy. Vietnam veteran, retired CEO—he ran every morning along the river. Early.”
    My brain ticked back ten months and change.
    “They found him down there. Just off the jogging path,” I mumbled, more to myself than to him.
    His eyebrows went up. “That’s some memory you have there.”
    “I must’ve read it somewhere,” I said dismissively. “Things I read get stuck in my head.” Things I hear, too, but not as readily. I needed to go make some notes.
    I took a step backward. “I just remembered something I have to do.” Lame.
    He pursed his lips, his eyes flicking from his watch to the elevators. “What about Percival?”
    Think fast, Nichelle.
    “It’s for him,” I said. “I forgot to bring his favorite treat with me. He does better when he gets rewarded.” Two steps back. I needed a notepad, and I needed to not get any further into this hole with Jeff. He looked suspicious enough already.
    A shrill “You have GOT to be kidding” came from the far end of the drive, and we both turned toward it. Ms. Social Network, Percival being dragged behind her on a rhinestone-studded leash, screeched a full-throated “go away” at the police officer, trying to shove past him to get to the door.
    Captain Surly spun her around and folded one arm behind her back, saying something I couldn’t hear. Jeff took a step toward the scene, then turned to look back at me. “You said—”
    “So nice chatting with you, Jeff,” I blurted, spinning on one Louboutin and sprinting for my car.
    So. Close.
    I didn’t even check the rearview to see if snotty Clarice was headed to jail.

      
    A block up, I squealed the tires pulling into the Virginia War Memorial parking lot. Throwing the car into park, I snatched a pen and