Dial Om for Murder Read Online Free

official, Detective Oberlin had broad shoulders, piercing green eyes, and zero sense of humor when it came to his job. Today his job was Nicole Manning’s murder. Still, as his eyes met A.J.’s, there was something almost sympathetic in his gaze, as though he understood exactly the sick mix of shock and horror she felt. Nonetheless, his voice was brisk, and it was clear to A.J. that her sort-of boyfriend, Detective Jake Oberlin, was not pleased to see her involved even peripherally in his homicide case. And she sympathized, because she wasn’t exactly thrilled herself.
    “I want to make sure we haven’t missed anything,” he said, and A.J. sighed.
    She had never felt more tired. The initial surge of adrenaline that had kept her moving after the ghastly discovery of Nicole’s body had gradually drained away, leaving her feeling more than a little shaky. She had been at Nicole’s house for nearly three hours. First they had waited for emergency services and the police who had taken initial statements. Then they had waited for a homicide detective to show up—which had turned out to be Jake. Jake had taken a more complete statement, and now he was verifying every little detail with her. Which made sense, of course, but A.J. desperately wanted to go home, to leave this scene of violence and tragedy.
    Jake stared down at the paper he held. His long, dark eyelashes threw shadow crescents on his tanned cheeks. The eyelashes were disarming because A.J. had never met a man more aggressively male than Jake.
    He raised those strikingly green eyes to hers. “So you got a call from Nicole at exactly what time?”
    “About one-thirty.”
    Jake opened his mouth, and A.J. said, “I didn’t look at the clock, but I’m pretty sure it was close to one-thirty because I was thinking I’d have time to get through another two or three resumes before going home to change for the party.”
    “Cutting it a little fine, weren’t you?” he remarked. “According to Manning’s PA, the party was supposed to start at three.”
    Was he going to lecture her on social etiquette? He didn’t even like parties.
    She retorted, “I think it was more of an open house. They were planning on a buffet rather than a sit down meal. And anyway, I planned on being there by three-twenty, which is well within the fashionably late no harm, no foul margin.”
    “Right. So Manning calls and tells you she’s left a three-thousand-dollar cell phone in the bathroom, and can you bring it to her immediately because she’s expecting an important call from her producer?”
    “Yes.”
    “And the producer’s name is?”
    “She didn’t say. I didn’t ask.”
    He made a check mark on his notes. “You run upstairs, you find the cell phone right where Manning described, you run downstairs and try phoning Manning—”
    Jake broke off as A.J. moved uncomfortably. “What?”
    “It’s probably nothing.”
    “See, this is why we go over the statements. What is probably nothing?”
    A.J. really did not want to bring up her conversation—that was one word for it—with Barbie. It wasn’t as though Barbie had actually threatened Nicole. Saying someone was dead to you wasn’t the same as saying you were going to kill them. But Barbie and Nicole had had a contentious relationship, and, worse luck, that discussion had taken place on a crowded staircase in front of easily a dozen wit nesses. Important client or not, A.J. was going to have to mention Barbie’s name to the police.
    She replied, “On my way downstairs I bumped into Barbie Siragusa.” The glint in Jake’s eyes gave her pause. “Barbie mentioned how unhappy she was that I had decided not to allow any filming of her reality show, Barbie’s Dream Life inside Sacred Balance Studio.”
    “ Barbie’s Dream Life ?” Jake repeated slowly. His mouth twitched with a hint of grim amusement. “Do they have an episode where Barbie visits the Big Bopper in the dreamy new federal “supermax” facility in