Cracked to Death Read Online Free Page A

get unruly.”
    â€œI’ve had keys made, and I’ll give one to Jacob so this won’t be a problem in the future.”
    Frances gave Jacob a light peck on his cheek. “What a wonderful solution.” She bent to give Suzy a good scratching behind the ears. “Suzy, take good care of him. Jacob, tell Savannah about the unfortunate incident with the nasty man.” She got in her car and sped away, throwing up a few stones from the sparse gravel.
    Savannah unlocked the newly painted green entrance door to Webb’s Studio. The thick coat of paint covered the fact that a new door would be needed in the near future.
    Another expense to be added to the list.
    She stepped aside. “What’s this about a man?”
    But Jacob whizzed by on his way to the workshop.
    He’s beelining for his workbench. I’ll tackle him about the situation when he’s settled down to work. He’ll be more comfortable .
    Savannah stood for a moment and looked around at the newly painted concrete floor, the partitioned work spaces, and relished the warm glow of pride in her chest. This was her personal vision—not her father’s or his father’s. The planning and development of Webb’s Studio were hers and hers alone.
    The recent growth in the number of art galleries, high-end gift shops, and juried art festivals had created a demand for artworks, which local artisans struggled to meet. The timing was perfect for a facility that rented out affordable work space that supported independent artists.
    She wished her dad could see this. She had returned home from Seattle, where she was studying glassblowing, when her dad died unexpectedly of a heart attack about six months ago. That event had been quickly followed by the death from a heart attack of his longtime associate. Two heart attacks in one small shop had raised all sorts of alarms for Savannah. Sadly, it had turned out she was right when she helped the police investigate their murders.
    The studio’s layout was a glass artist’s dream in terms of space, light, and comfort. Next to the door, she keyed in the code for the alarm and turned on the ancient public address system. In the background she heard the soft strains of “Für Elise.” She had taken particular care to ensure that the endless loop of light classical music wouldn’t repeat for several days.
    Along the back wall, just beyond the partitions, a solid bank of twelve paned windows illuminated the space with gorgeous sunlight from its southern exposure. Off to the right, she had created a tiny office and a large workshop for the commissioned work she continued to receive due to her late father’s excellent reputation. At the end of the wall and to the right was Jacob’s large workshop. He worked more effectively in this corner, away from any noise and distraction. He was getting a reputation for his excellent restoration skills.
    She poked her head in his workshop. “Hey, Jacob. Is everything all right? Do you need anything?”
    Jacob looked up from the ancient seven-foot-long stained glass panel lying on their largest worktable, one with a built-in bank of fluorescent lights to illuminate the work in progress from below the clear surface of the table. Underneath the cut glass pieces, a printed template outlined the geometric design. Each small piece of glass had been placed on top of the template. The template was drawn with a unique number written on it for each tiny element of glass. Many of the pieces were missing, and some of the existing ones were covered with dirt and grime.
    â€œNo, thank you, Miss Savannah. Everything is fine.” He stooped to pick up the small beagle standing by his feet. He kissed the top of the little beagle’s head. “Everything is fine. Right, Suzy?”
    Suzy was Jacob’s service animal and was in charge of the inhaler in her service vest. He needed it in case he had a panic attack. From past