Angel's Verdict Read Online Free Page A

day will bring.” She brought her head up and seemed to have come to a decision. “May I sit down again? I haven’t been entirely candid with you about the extent of my concerns.”
    “Oh my,” EB said. “One thing you have to be is honest with your lawyer.”
    Bree waited a moment and then said gently, “We’d be happy to help if we can.”
    “It’s an ugly story.” Justine brushed her hand lightly over her forehead and perched on the edge of the chair. “Those changes to my will aren’t at all essential, as I’m sure you realized. I could have phoned them in to you. As busy as I am, I probably should have. But I may need some help.”
    She took a deep breath. “I’m being cowardly about this. And of all the things I’ve been in my life, I’ve never been a coward. No. I do need some help. I wanted to meet you. See if you were . . . sympathetic. Not the I’m-so-sorry-for-your-loss sort of sympathetic. The we-understand-you kind. Do you see what I mean?” Her gaze was unexpectedly sharp. “There’s a lot of steel underneath you. Don’t think I don’t see it. You would have made an excellent Eleanor of Aquitaine. Except for your hair. Hers was reputedly red, not silver-blonde. It’s The Lion in Winter I’m speaking of. One of my finer roles.”
    Justine wasn’t dithering, Bree realized. She was trying to avoid addressing something painful. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.” She made a conscious effort not to look at her watch. Antonia might spit tacks if this appointment took too much longer, but there was a lot she could occupy herself with at home. Walk Bree’s dog, Sasha, for instance. And it was Antonia’s turn to do the laundry. “Shall we all sit down again, and you tell us what’s troubling you?”
    Justine stood up. “What’s the matter with me? I can’t sit down. I must get going. It doesn’t do to stay away from the set for long. But I will tell you this. Someone on that set is trying to kill me”
    “Kill you?” EB gasped. “Lord, Lord.”
    Justine blinked away tears. “Professionally, I mean. Someone is dropping poison in Phillip Mercury’s ear about my performance. He’s threatened to void my contract. There’s more. Strange things have been happening to me on the set. A rug rolled up so that I’ll trip on it. A chair moved out of position so that I’ll fall.” She dabbed at the tears with the back of her hand. “There’s a concentrated malevolence there. Violence. Aimed at me. Aimed directly at me.
    “I want to know who is behind it.
    And I want to know why.”

Two
    From ghoulies and ghosties and long leggity beasties
that go bump in the night, Good Lord deliver us.
    —Old Saying
     
     
     
     
    “Someone’s trying to physically harm you? Of course I’ll come by the set,” Bree said, alarmed. “I’ll come with you now if you like.”
    “You sit right down here,” EB ordered, planting the visitor’s chair next to her own desk. “Shall I get my steno pad, Ms. Beaufort? Shall I take notes?”
    “ ‘Alarms and excursions,’ ” Justine murmured. Then, loudly, “No notes, Mrs. Billingsley. I don’t want to say anything more right now, Bree. And before you ask, no, I don’t want to call the police.” She suddenly looked her full age, and exhausted as anyone Bree had ever seen. “If I may be frank, I need this part. You’re how old . . . twenty-five? Thirty?”
    “Twenty-eight,” Bree said.
    “So you haven’t a clue. About how the world looks at you when you have a few years on you. Actually it’s how the world doesn’t look at you when you’re old. They raise their voices, as if you were deaf. Their gazes slide right past you in a crowd. You’re treated like a child, or a mental defective. But I’m not losing it, as you young people say. My powers of observation are as great as they’ve ever been.” Her lower lip trembled. “The whole production seems to be in trouble. Things disappear. Equipment gets damaged. The cost overruns are