Claws for Alarm Read Online Free

a
person
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    *   *   *
    O nce I’d calmed my aunt down as best I could under the circumstances, I immediately called Daniel Corleone. I got his answering machine, so I left a message, hitting the highlights and asking him to dig up any information he could on Pitt’s murder.
    Daniel Corleone is an FBI agent whose acquaintance I’d made during my previous adventure. Our professional relationship had a rocky beginning, for sure, but we’d also both felt a mutual attraction to each other in spite of it. Following the successful completion of that case, he’d accepted a position heading up an FBI satellite office in Carmel. He shared the office with a DOJ (that’s Department of Justice, for those not in the know) agent, Rick Barnes, for whom I suspected Chantal harbored quite a crush. Over the past few weeks Daniel and I had been “getting to know” each other over some casual lunches. As of yet, our relationship hadn’t gotten past the friendly stop-by-for-a-quick-lunch level, but after my last relationship (which had turned very, very sour . . . another long story), taking it slow seemed a good idea to me.
    Since I’ve never been a particularly patient person, and since I had no clue how long it would be before Daniel might call back, I dragged out my trusty laptop and proceeded to search for some mention of Pitt’s murder, which proved to be no easy feat. There were loads of articles on Pitt—on his contributions to the town of Carmel, his academic prowess, his school. Likening him to Santa Claus was putting it mildly. A male Mother Teresa would be more apropos. Hardly a mention, though, of his untimely end; apparentlythe Carmel police were trying to keep the incident on the down low. I finally found one mention in the
Carmel
Herald
:
    LOCAL CELEBRITY FOUND STABBED TO DEATH
    Professor found dead in office
    Professor Thaddeus Pitt, 58, renowned artist and the founder of the Pitt Institute located in nearby St. Leo, was found stabbed to death Wednesday evening in his office at the school on Peachtree Drive.
    Pitt’s body was discovered around ten thirty Wednesday evening. Police were called to the scene shortly thereafter. The cause of death appears to be a stab wound directly to the heart. An autopsy will be held to accurately determine the cause and exact time of death.
    A California native, Pitt was raised in both California and Texas. He displayed artistic ability at an early age and was admitted into the prestigious Otis College of Art and Design at age 16. He gained fame for both his Impressionistic drawings and portraits of famous people such as Marilyn Monroe and Pope John Paul XXIII. His work hangs in museums such as the Guggenheim, the Smithsonian, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Although he himself has not painted for the last fifteen years, Pitt’s school, started twelve years ago, has produced many fine artists, all of whom mourn his untimely passing.
    Even though a possible suspect has been taken into custody, the police declined further comment at this time, other than to say the incident remains under investigation.
    At least, I thought thankfully, Lacey’s name was withheld—for the time being. I drummed my fingers on the edge of my desk. I needed more details, and I also needed to find a good criminal lawyer. I’d known tons in Chicago, but here . . . As I debated the situation my phone rang. I glanced at the number, then immediately picked it up.
    â€œDaniel, hi. Thank you for calling back so quickly.”
    â€œWell, I’m FBI, remember? Speed is our middle name.” His tone sobered. “How are you holding up, Nora? This must have been quite a shock for you.”
    â€œWell, Lacey is the last person I’d ever expect to be accused of murder—then again I haven’t really been in touch with her in a long, long, time. I keep thinking how my mother would have reacted.” I