Read Looks to Die For for Free Online Page B

and fought off the four extra pounds at my thighs. Maybe I had fabulous clothes and a flair for design, but mostly I helped with homework, fed Jimmy’s gerbils, and fussed over my family. I liked to putter in my garden, and I knew about geraniums, not jail cells.
    When the phone rang, I jumped to answer, hoping it might be Chauncey with news of Dan. But it was only a client wanting to chat about the fabric samples I’d dropped off at her house yesterday. Yesterday? More like a million years ago.
    “Is this a good time?” she asked. “You sound distracted.”
    “This is fine,” I said, putting on my best business-as-usual manner. Apparently the rest of the world was still spinning on its regular axis, even if mine had slipped off-kilter. Let’s see, fabric. I remembered that. We discussed thread count, nub, and durability. I steered her toward chenille, and as soon as she agreed, I switched gears and described the advantages of velvet. I wasn’t being contrary — just using up time.
    Once we hung up, I stared at the phone, wondering if I could use my powers of persuasion for something more important — like convincing Jimmy that everything was fine. It wouldn’t be easy. Jimmy was a scared little boy, but he was also smart. When he lost his first tooth, a dollar bill appeared under his pillow. Waking up in the morning, his hair rumpled and his voice still groggy with sleep, Jimmy had clutched the money in his little fist but refused to believe in the tooth fairy. “I think Mommy or Daddy left it, or maybe Grant,” he’d said solemnly. Try to tell him now that nothing bad had happened to his dad? Sure, and Easter eggs come from a bunny.
    I got off the bed and went through my closet to see if I had a better talking-with-the-lawyer outfit. After a few minutes, I gave up in defeat and decided not to change. To keep myself busy, I looked around the bedroom, thinking about what I could improve. I moved a Murano mint bowl from one side of the dresser to the other, and pushed the Steuben swans Dan gave me for our last anniversary to the front of a shelf. The swans’ mate-for-life symbolism used to strike me as corny, but now I felt a surge of gratitude. Only a thoughtful, kind, and caring man would buy love birds for his wife. And who ever heard of a thoughtful, kind, and caring killer?
    Needing to get out of the house, I drove over to Beverly Boulevard. It was too early to barge into Chauncey’s office, but his law firm happened to be located in the best design district in town. I found an expensive antique store to wander through, but it seemed about as diverting as Kmart. Not even a blue-light special could attract me now — all I wanted was to see Dan. Giving up, I made my way over to Chauncey’s place, willing to wait however long it took.
    But it didn’t take any time at all. Chauncey had worked fast, and when I got to the office, Dan had already arrived. He was sitting resolutely on Chauncey’s black leather sofa, sipping a bottle of his favorite ginger Honest Tea. When a secretary ushered me in, Dan smiled tiredly, then came over to give me a little hug. I’d planned to stay cool, but at Dan’s touch, a wild mix of emotion flooded through me. I lay my head against his chest, overwhelmed with relief, confusion, and dread.
    “Are you all right?” I asked, barely whispering.
    “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He looked slightly paler than usual, but he had on pressed khakis and a new powder blue polo shirt with a Ralph Lauren insignia. Either Chauncey Howell had picked it up for him coming to court this morning or the prison had a Barneys in the basement.
    I stepped back, reminding myself to stay strong. With everything else collapsing around him, Dan didn’t need his wife crumbling, too. But imagining for the thousandth time what Dan had gone through last night, I gave a little shudder.
    “Was it terrible in the…cell? My God, I saw a drug addict being dragged back.” I looked at him with what I hoped was