Always Kiss the Corpse Read Online Free

plane’s strut, then a small door opened and a uniformed man crawled out. Three women climbed down, a young man in fashionably baggy pants, a large man, then Noel, carrying a black leather jacket. Kyra waved. A customs official checked him through. He picked up his overnight bag and his computer and joined her.
    She hugged him. “Good flight?” She took his bag.
    â€œBumpy. Tight cabin.” But he was smiling.
    She smiled back and led him up the pier to the adjacent Hotel Bellwether parking lot. “I phoned to tell you I was down here waiting, but you didn’t answer.”
    He put his arm around her shoulders. “You can’t leave a cellphone on in a plane.”
    She unlocked her car, a Tracker.
    He took his arm back and pulled his cell out of his pocket. “Besides, if I leave it on someone might actually find me.”
    â€œExactly the idea, Noel.” She’d hoped he would love his Christmas present. Guess not.
    He set his computer on the back seat, covered it with his coat. He gave her a hug, and a peck on the cheek. “Hiya partner.”
    â€œHi yourself. Hop in. We’ve got twenty minutes to get to Lake Whatcom.” He looked trim and fit, his thinning blond hair newly cut short. He wore a black turtleneck, black jeans and his favorite polished black loafers. At forty-three a handsome man of delicate build, four inches taller than herself.
    He folded himself into the passenger seat. “So what do we know?”
    â€œNothing I didn’t tell you last night: Garth Schultz’s phone call and Maria Vasiliadis’ whispered words, That’s not Sandro .”
    â€œWho’s Schultz?”
    â€œI’m not sure. I had company so I got just the barest details.”
    They sped down State Street. “Do we know what he died of?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œName sounds Greek.”
    â€œSchultz?”
    Noel grinned. “Don’t be obtuse.” Her cheeks were flushed and as usual her lipstick had disappeared.
    â€œAll we know is name, address, eleven o’clock appointment, and it wasn’t her son in the coffin.” Kyra turned onto Alabama Street and began the climb up the straight steep hill. She gunned the engine. She didn’t much like this car but it had good acceleration. Sam had given it to her when she started her snooping career. He’d thought its name was a good joke.
    Under the I-5, Alabama all the way to Whatcom, Kyra talked about her new condo. Noel stared ahead, out the window. He appreciated few things as much as the return of the sun in late winter. This year more than ever.
    Kyra shifted to a half-teasing tone. “How’s Talbot?”
    â€œI haven’t been pushing.”
    â€œNo?” She glanced his way and gave him a wry smile.
    â€œBrendan’s not going to happen again.”
    â€œI thought Talbot had this crush on you.” Kyra pulled out to pass a cement truck.
    â€œWhat crush? I want dinner with somebody sometimes. That’s about all I can handle. And,” he squinted at her, “who was your company last night?”
    â€œA nice guy from my Art History course. Jerome. You’ll meet him Thursday. I’ve invited him and some others for a potluck.”
    â€œNice? What’s nice?”
    â€œHmm, dunno. Maybe too nice. The bad thing about him is his dog.”
    Now Noel raised an inquiring eyebrow.
    â€œBig slobbery thing. We walk along, he gets between me and Jerome and growls.”
    Noel barked a laugh.
    â€œI take it as a personal insult.” At the shore of Lake Whatcom, its grays and thin blues reflecting the sky, they turned left along Northshore Drive. Kyra dug in her purse for a notebook and thrust it at Noel. “I wrote the address on the last page. Dulcey Lane.”
    Noel read out street names. “There it is.”
    The house, a trim white bungalow on the north side with a view of the lake between the houses across the street, sat between two