Read The Demise for Free Online Page A

know where to find me.”
    And there it was. That delicious tingle that always crackled up her spine after delivering a perfect line. With the unrivaled confidence of Betty Davis, she turned and walked away. And as she pushed open the door she gave herself permission to smile, certain his eyes were still glued to her back.
    In a manner of speaking, of course.

Chapter 5
     
    Later that evening, Julie stepped onto the front porch of the brick home and rang the doorbell. She’d never been here before. Noticing the manicured lawn and landscaping, she thought the house a reflection of its owner. She wondered if anyone ever used the wicker furniture on the porch. Potted red geraniums gave a splash of color to the grouping of chairs, loveseat, and table. Yet even in the dusk light, she could tell it was rarely used.
    The door opened. Donella Willet, dressed in an oversized black linen shirt and matching slacks, stared back at her without a word of greeting, her eyes puffy and red.
    “Donella, I apologize for not calling before I dropped by—”
    “You should have. I would have told you not to bother.” Her eyes dropped to the plate of cookies in Julie’s hands. “Please don’t tell me those are for me.”
    Julie held the plate out. “Of course they are. I’ve been so upset about Mr. Lanham, and when I got home, I was just so restless, so I decided to make some cookies, and then I thought, ‘I wonder if I should take these to Donella?’ and so . . . here I am.”
    She cringed at the sound of the breathless explosion of nervous chatter. Knowing how adolescent she sounded, she offered a Sandra Bullock smile of innocence, tilting her head just so.
    “You needn’t have bothered,” Donella mumbled, stepping back to close the door.
    “Donella, please—I only came because I thought you could use some company. You knew Mr. Lanham better than any of us, so I know this has been hard on you. I’m not blind—I could see the grief in your eyes this morning.”
    A flicker of pain softened Donella’s eyes.
    “Please, I just want to . . . I’m trying to say I care about you. That’s all. You shouldn’t be alone at a time like this. Please, just let me come in for a few minutes. That’s all I ask.”
    The unyielding woman remained, her hand on the door, still avoiding eye contact. Julie could almost read her mind. The office matriarch whose well-constructed walls kept everyone at arm’s length was no doubt wondering if she could make an exception to her loner lifestyle in this moment of grief. Could she let down her defenses and accept an act of kindness? Could she?
    She stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in, Julie.” Her tone was less than hospitable, but it was a start.
    Julie followed her into a small living area. She was surprised at the warm and cozy ambiance of the room’s décor, so different from the woman who lived here. Still, it didn’t seem appropriate to compliment the decorating taste of her hostess just now.
    “Have a seat. I’ll make us some tea.”
    “That would be lovely, Donella. Thank you.”
    As soon as Donella disappeared down the hall, Julie switched gears. As fast as she could, she began snooping around the room for anything that might be useful. Sure, she felt sorry for Donella, but the visit and cookies were merely an excuse to get her foot in the door. After Matt’s stubborn refusal to let her join him in the investigation, she was more determined than ever to uncover something—anything—that might shed some light on Mr. Lanham’s so-called suicide. The thrill of discovery raced up her spine as she pictured herself on the front page of the local paper: Hometown Sleuth Solves Suspicious Death of Peter Lanham. Who knows? A whole new career might open up to her— if someone other than Dennis wrote the story. Perish the thought!
    Maybe she could host one of those Court TV shows that spotlight real-life crimes. Or star in a television drama series like Kyra Sedgwick in The