Confession Is Murder Read Online Free

talk.” Frank took the plate from her and started to steer her toward Connie’s back bedroom.
    “There’s nothing to talk about, least not yet. You gotta give me some time.”
    “Please? What harm can a little conversation do?”
    Lucille knew what harm it could do. All her high-falutin’ principles would go out the window with one whiff of Frank’s aftershave. If she left the room with him, she’d be a goner.
    “Come on, Lu, five minutes is all I ask.” He put his hand to the small of her back and tried to maneuver her out of the room.
    “I said no, Frankie, not right now.” She hadn’t meant to speak so loudly—people were turning around to look. “Leave me alone, please. Okay?” Lucille threw her arms up.
    The pin on her zipper sprang open, and her dress parted like the Red Sea.
    Flo hustled her up the stairs before everyone had even stopped gasping.
    “What were you thinking?” She pushed Lucille into the bedroom and slammed the door.
    “I couldn’t get the zipper all the way up.”
    “I can see that. Everyone could see that. What’s the deal with Frank, by the way?”
    Lucille sighed. “I threw him out.”
    “So I noticed. What happened?” Flo tugged Lucille’s dress back into place.
    “You know that money I was saving? To go to Italy and have an audience with the Pope?”
    Flo nodded.
    “Well, he took it. I got the statement from the bank, and it was just . . . gone. I called them, and they said Frank had withdrawn all of it.”
    “I still don’t understand what the big deal is with this Pope thing. Me, I’d be saving for one of those Caribbean cruises or something. Or maybe Club Med with all those hunky guys.”
    Lucille wanted to point out that all those “hunky guys” were the age of Flo’s son. “I’d like to go to the Caribbean too. Frankie and me have talked about it. Kind of a second honeymoon. But this thing with the Pope is special to me. That’s why I was saving my own money for the trip. I can’t explain it; I just imagine that being with the Pope is about as close to being with God as you’re going to get on this earth.”
    “There, I think that should do it.” Flo had worked the zipper all the way up and, for good measure, pinned it into place.
    Must have been the lasagna, Lucille thought. The dress felt even tighter than it had that morning. She was half afraid to breath. What she wanted to do was go home and change into her sweats and her fuzzy pink slippers.
    “I don’t see why you threw him out, though. Guy like Frank—I wouldn’t want him running around loose, if you know what I mean.”
    Lucille stiffened. “No, what do you mean?”
    “Come on, Lucille, Frank’s still a damned good-looking guy.”
    “He’s going gray, has more of a keg than a six-pack, and he snores,” Lucille said, although she agreed with Flo.
    Flo laughed. “So what? Frankie’s still got it.” She looked around the room. “Do you believe this place? It’s like something out of Ozzie and Harriet .”
    Lucille glanced at the twin beds covered in pink spreads and separated demurely by a night table. “Gee, I wouldn’t want Frankie sleeping that far away from me.” She realized, with a pang, that he was now sleeping halfway across town. “Sheesh!” She ran her finger across the top of the vanity. “There isn’t no dust at all. I don’t know how Connie does it.”
    A tall, straight dresser was stationed against the opposite wall. Lucille motioned toward the top, where a dish held a handful of spare change and a Swiss Army knife. “It’s going to be hard for Connie to get rid of Joseph’s stuff. I remember when my father died, we had a hell of a time convincing Ma to clean out his closets.”
    “Connie’s the ultimate ice queen.” Flo was poking around in the closet. “It probably won’t bother her one bit.”
    “Flo,” Lucille hissed. “What are you doing? What if Connie comes up?”
    Flo shrugged. “She’s busy downstairs.”
    “Yeah, but what if she comes up?