Read Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 03 - Paint Me a Murder for Free Online

wanted to, but the same wasn’t true for me.
    It took me an extra minute to locate my favorite mug. Gilda had rearranged the shelf. I poured milk, added a dash of nutmeg and sugar, and heated it for a minute in the microwave. When the drink was ready, I took the mug into the living room and sat down in my favorite recliner with my feet up. Some nights I fell asleep in the chair, and Audie tucked a blanket around my shoulders when he discovered me. Tonight my mind kept leap-frogging through the day’s events too much for me to sleep.
    Finella, dead. Brad, missing. Brad, Dina’s father.
    Jenna and Audie expected me to investigate arson and murder, even if my husband had offered half-hearted objections. My thoughts circled around the news that Brad Merriman was Dina’s biological father. That fact shed new light on Dina’s personality. How could two artists produce a child with so little interest in art? Then again, Brad researched the details of his mural thoroughly. He went above and beyond what he needed for accuracy, and thrived on the chase. That was Dina all over. Once she had the bit of a story between her teeth, she wouldn’t let it go. They had both obsessed about the history of Grace Gulch in recent days. Brad, for the mural, and Dina, for an updated edition of A History of Grace Gulch .
    Heritage. I thought of the difference between brothers Bob and Larry Grace. Bob had avoided the temptation to become a “sooner” on his desired parcel of land and handed his descendents a rich legacy. Larry was a bootlegger, swindler and thief. If I were Brad, I might not want to claim him as my ancestor.
    Every family had its share of “black sheep.” I knew the Wilde family. . .hardworking Oklahoma farmers, at least back to great-grandpa Wallace who helped settle the Gulch. Not a single slacker or bad ’un among us, in spite of our name. Some people considered Jenna a black sheep, but I for one felt she had more than redeemed herself. But what about the Howes?
    I sipped more of the warm milk and rubbed my tummy. “Junior, your Daddy and I will give you the best start we possibly can. And we’ll introduce you to the God who can make all things new when you make a mistake.” He stirred, a small movement beneath my hands, as if thanking me for my reassurance.
    I glanced up the stairs in the direction of the guest bedroom, and thought about asking Gilda about the Howe family history. I remembered the compatibility questionnaire Pastor Waldberg had given us before the wedding. Didn’t the questions touch on similar backgrounds and family traits? My mother-in-law might shed an interesting light on some of Audie’s quirks.
    I rinsed out my mug and climbed back up the stairs. If I was lucky, I might manage a few more hours of sleep before the alarm went off.
    ~
    I knew Wednesday would be a difficult day when someone knocked at our front door while we ate breakfast.
    “I’ll get it.” Audie motioned for me to stay seated. A moment later, I heard him greet our guest. “Chief! What brings you by on this beautiful morning?”
    Reiner had come by our house? I couldn’t think of a single good reason for his presence. He rumbled an answer that I didn’t catch.
    “Excuse me.” I scraped my leftover eggs into the trash and left my plate in the sink to soak.
    “But you haven’t touched. . .” Gilda’s voice trailed after me. I didn’t care. I wanted to find out why the chief of police had come by our house. Maybe my old detective instincts were stirring after all.
    Reiner’s familiar profile, a stout figure topped with a Teddy Roosevelt-type mustache, had settled onto our couch.
    “Cici. You can’t resist a puzzle.” The words sounded harsh, but he said them with a smile. To give the man credit, he didn’t hold the assistance we had given him on previous murders in our small town against us.
    “I understand Finella Gaynor was murdered.” I jumped in with both feet.
    “How did you. . . never mind. I can