Digging Up the Dead Read Online Free

were supposed to ask her for an extra one.”
    “I’ve been too busy,” said Karma. “Don’t worry, we’ll get a copy.”
    “Damn. We need to get it from her. I’m not sure I trust the woman, her being so broke. She claims the flash drive was all she got from Oliver. He refused to give her a print-out or email her the document file. Right now she has the only copy of the file, and we need it.”
    “No problem. I’ll call and remind her to bring it Saturday. Everything will be on the drive, right?”
    “It better be.”

 
     
     
Chapter Six
     
     
    “J.J., what should I wear? A dress, jeans, shorts? Arlene told me that Karma wears hippie clothes. My leather skirt? Maybe I’ll wear a cloche hat. That would be just right for Fuller’s 1920s era, no?”
    Tosca paused on the second step of the spiral staircase and faced her daughter. J.J. looked up from the NASCAR team racing helmet she was cleaning at the sink.
    “I’ve never met or seen Karma, so I don’t know, Mother. Some of those Newport Beach ladies like to dress up. Don’t wear a hat, and definitely not that tiny skirt or hot pants you claim are shorts. I’d suggest a sundress.”
    “Perfect. Thank you, keresik. ”
    Tosca climbed the rest of the stairs that led to the attic of her daughter’s loft-like apartment in the duplex. Designed with an open-concept plan, its one large room downstairs had space for a compact kitchen and living and dining areas. Two bedrooms upstairs book-ended a bathroom. A small landing and a French door led to the roof deck with a view of the large harbor.
    Tosca took a shower and spent the better part of an hour drying and styling her waist-length, dark hair. Careful not to break into any of the operatic arias she so loved to sing but didn’t to avoid disturbing their island neighbors, whose houses barely had twelve inches between their walls, she came downstairs in a pink halter sundress. She carried a pair of red high-heeled shoes. Tucked under her arm was a red and white parasol.
    “Very nice,” said J.J. “Wait. Is that a new parasol? What happened to the old one?”
    “The handle came off. Parasols with handles are almost impossible to find. I had to settle for this.”
    “Mother, you’re not going to need it. Please leave it here. It’ll look silly because the sun’s almost down.”
    Tosca shrugged, propped the parasol next to the front door and muttered, “ Bram an gath.”
    “Mother! I’m shocked.”
    “Now don’t get your knickers in a twist. You’re giving the cuss phrase its worst meaning instead of the one I prefer, which is ‘fiddlesticks’.”
    J.J. changed the subject. “It was very nice of Karma to invite you. Did she say you could bring Thatch along?”
    “The invitation came through Arlene, and I’m sure I could have brought him if he weren’t off at some godforsaken fishing hole in somewhere called Idaho. He said he was going to a nearby volcano after that, so we won’t see him for at least another week.”
    Amateur geologist Thatcher MacAulay was a retired U.S. Secret Service agent who’d met Tosca when she first arrived on Isabel Island. The two shared an interest in mysteries, Thatch as an amateur geologist who enjoyed seeking out clues to the past through his hobby, while Tosca’s natural curiosity had led her to discover and solve two crimes several months earlier.
    The couple also shared a mutual, if opposite, attraction. Thatch’s background trained him to be necessarily reticent as a result of his service protecting American presidents, while Tosca’s career was at the other extreme as a garrulous gossip columnist. Nevertheless, they managed to complement each other.
    J.J. finished wiping the racing helmet, set it on the small table near the door and turned to her mother.
    “Is this the fundraiser party for the Fuller Sanderson library?” she said. “A few wealthy people should be there, and certainly some of Karma’s clients. I imagine she hopes they’ll be donors.