A Parfait Murder Read Online Free

will personally see to it that you get a sneak peek at hell before you die. You got that?”
    Sonny laughed. “Jeez, kitten, I see where you get your claws.” He tutted softly, as if he were calming an ornery animal. “I’m not denying nothin’,” he said. “I’m just gonna let science make the call.”
    He glanced to his left and his smile brightened. “I’ll just let the counselor here explain.”
    We all followed his line of sight. Kristen Ver Steeg headed our way. The blistering sun washed the color from her pale lemon suit and her champagne-colored upswept hair. With her face devoid of expression, she looked as if she were carved out of butter.
    A big man all in black—jeans, T-shirt, leather vest, biker boots, and wraparound shades—followed close behind her. He looked vaguely familiar, but it took a moment for me to place him.
    Nick DeWinter, better known as “Neck,” graduated a year behind me in high school. He was a star defensive lineman until he got caught boosting car stereos in the teacher parking lot. I’d heard he did a little time after school, but that might have just been gossip. Still, he looked as if he could go toe-to-toe with the baddest felon in the yard.
    His dark massiveness made slim, pale Kristen look even more fey by comparison.
    The unlikely duo marched up to the booth.
    Kristen offered us a bland smile and extended her hand toward Bree. Bree glanced at the proffered hand but did not take it. Kristen’s smile tightened, but never wavered as she let her hand drop to her side.
    “Ms. Michaels, my name is Kristen Ver Steeg. Mr. Anders has retained me to represent him in regards to his paternity suit.”
    Bree, Finn, Peachy, and I all spoke at once. “Paternity suit?”
    Kristen cleared her throat. Her eyes darted briefly in Sonny’s direction. “Yes. I would urge you to retain a lawyer, but I think you’ll find the complaint selfexplanatory.”
    She looked at Neck and jerked her head toward Bree. Neck stepped forward and reached a hand around his back to pull something from his waistband. I was halfway into a crouch, expecting a gun, before I realized he held nothing more deadly than an envelope.
    He stretched his arm across the counter and waved the envelope. “Bree Michaels?” he asked in a voice that sounded like gravel at the bottom of a well.
    “Uh-huh,” Bree choked, a trembling hand taking the envelope from his fingers.
    “You’ve been served.”

chapter 3
    I n the end, it might have been easier for Bree if Neck had pulled a gun out of his pants. At least doctors can remove bullets.
    Kristen, Neck, and Sonny took off right after serving Bree with the papers claiming Sonny wasn’t Alice’s father. We were left to clean up the mess.
    Bree sagged into the folding chair, her hands trembling as she unfolded the paper, her eyes haunted as they scanned the words written there.
    “Son of a . . .” She threw the packet of papers across the booth. “He’s claiming I was a tramp.”
    Finn bent down to scoop them up. “I’m sure it doesn’t say that,” he muttered, handing the papers back to Bree.
    “Not in so many words, but that’s the gist. This paragraph right here”—she stabbed at the paper as if she were squashing the life out of the printed words—“says ‘Plaintiff is informed and believes and based thereon alleges the Defendant engaged in an ongoing and public course of sexually promiscuous behavior during the months prior and subsequent to June of 1992, including but not limited to the evening of June twenty-second, 1992.’” She made a choking sound. “And, of course, he points out that Alice was born less than nine months after he and I met.”
    Finn cocked his head, his eyebrows wrinkling into a look of shock. “What?”
    Bree speared him with a hard stare. “It’s not what you think,” she said, each word a tight little packet of pain. “Alice was premature. Her due date was nine months to the day after Sonny and I first . . . met.” She