Read Surest Poison, The for Free Online

Seems like it was Tommy, or
Terry, or . . . wait . . . Tony. Yeah, that sounds right. I’m almost
certain it was Tony.”
    “Would anybody else around Ashland City
know more about him?”
    “I can’t think who it might be. I’d say
talk to someone at the bank, but they didn’t do their banking in Ashland
City.”
    “Wasn’t that a little odd?”
    “Certainly made them seem more like outsiders. I wish I could tell you more, but that’s about it.
Did you get my name at the Chamber?”
    “From a nice young
red-head.”
    “She hasn’t been there all that long,” he
said before clamping his teeth around the pipe stem. “I’m afraid they’re
going to have a public relations nightmare with this trichloroethylene
situation.”
    Sid thanked him and walked out to his
truck. At least he had a name and a description now. Not much, but a start.
     
    Jaz LeMieux parked her late-model Lexus in front of the small frame house in Ashland
City around nine. Lavender and white chrysanthemums bloomed in pots on
either side of the front stoop. She walked to the door with a lively step,
dressed in snug-fitting black pants, a long-sleeved black shirt with an open
collar. Her red leather jacket matched the color of her car. A lean hound
dog peered around the corner of the house next door, where a scarecrow sat
between two grinning jack-o-lanterns. The street may not have ranked high on
the social register, but its houses looked neat and well kept.
    An attractive, thirtyish woman with
smooth brown skin and large, troubled eyes still moist from crying answered
her knock.
    “Thanks for coming, Miss Jaz.” Connie
Wallace had a voice reminiscent of a young girl’s. “Bobby’s granny said you
were on the way.”
    “Hi, Connie. It’s just plain Jaz, remember? You’re not old enough to talk like Marie.”
    She showed a faint smile. “So be it. Come
on in.”
    The neat living room appeared as Jaz
remembered it from a previous trip here with Marie. The mauve sofa and
chair, low coffee table, large TV would have looked at home in any modest
income area. The aroma of chocolate wafted through the kitchen door. A large
framed photo on one wall showed the couple with a small boy. Dressed in
their Sunday best, they appeared as in a pose for a church directory. The
boy had the same playful grin as his daddy.
    “Is your son in school?” Jaz asked.
    She nodded. “Bob Junior’s in fourth
grade.”
    “Fine looking boy. Does he know about his dad?”
    “Only that he wasn’t here for breakfast.
I didn’t know what to tell him. I don’t know what’s going on myself .” She gestured at the sofa. “Please sit
down. Can I get you anything? I just put a pan of brownies in the oven.
They’ll be ready soon.”
    She twisted slender hands and brushed the
corners of her eyes. “I had to be doing something.”
    Jaz dropped onto the sofa. “Mmm . . .
that smell is delicious. I’ll have to pass, though. Too
many treats instead of tricks last night. I bet your brownies are as
tasty as Marie’s.”
    Connie shook her head. “I can’t cook like
Granny.”
    “Nobody can,” Jaz said. “Now, tell me
about last night. Everything that happened. Marie
said Bobby went out for something?”
    The young woman sat at the opposite end
of the sofa. She wore well-washed blue jeans and a red and yellow striped
sweater that accented large breasts and a small waist. She seemed unsure
whether to bawl or go ballistic. Crossing one bare foot over the other, she
rested her heel on the thick pile of the beige carpet.
    “Nothing unusual at first,” she said in a
plaintive voice, tilting her head in thought. “Bobby came home from work in
a good mood. He had talked to his boss about a raise and said it looked
good. He wants to buy me a car. I fixed supper while Little Bob finished his
homework. Fourth grade is a lot harder than when I was in school. I don’t
know if kids are supposed to be smarter or if they just