Dolled Up for Murder Read Online Free Page A

English, using engaging examples and self-deprecating humor. He used his twice-weekly two-minute segments to explain things like the city’s responsibility to repair beach erosion after a brutal nor’easter (“Where people like me keep rebuilding, an example of hope trumping experience”); how a restaurant dishwasher had used his computer skills to set up shop selling fake IDs (“Using computer skills so sophisticated, it makes you wonder why he stayed washing dishes”); the government’s right to regulate gambling in private homes (“Like last month’s poker game where I lost my shirt”); and the long-term impact on building the new high school if voters turned down the proposed bond issue (“Ultimately, lower property values, even for those of us who keep adding real property by trucking in tons of sand to counteract the effects of beach erosion”). Although he had to be in his late forties, his loose-limbed gait, full head of hair, and unlined face made him appear younger.
    â€œWhat on earth are you doing here, Penn?” Alice asked, leaning in for a butterfly kiss.
    He kissed Alice’s cheek. “I’m looking for you, gorgeous! Got a sec?”
    â€œFor you? Of course. Anytime.” Alice pointed to the dolls on Sasha’s desk. “Look what I just bought! Twenty-three beauties.”
    â€œNice! Are they rare?”
    â€œRare enough,” she said proudly.
    â€œI like your style, Alice. Always have.”
    She smiled. “Do you know Josie?” she asked him, and when he said he hadn’t had the pleasure, she introduced us.
    â€œI enjoy your reports,” I told him.
    â€œThanks,” he said, grinning broadly. “Can I steal Alice for a sec?”
    â€œWe’re done anyway,” she said. She waved around the office. “’Bye, all!”
    Penn held the door for her, and she followed him out into the warm afternoon. Glancing at the thermometer fastened to the outside of the big window overlooking the parking lot, I saw it was seventy-five degrees, a glorious May day. I watched them walk to the center of the lot and stop. Penn said something, opening his arms and flipping his palms up—I have no choice, the gesture communicated. Alice shook her head, no, no. He spoke again, grasping her upper arms and shaking her a little, then dropping his hands and waiting for her reply. She looked away, toward the stone wall across the road, then smoothed her hair, though not one strand was out of place. She inhaled so deeply I could see her chest move. She pulled her shoulders back and raised her chin as she said something, pride stiffening her spine, it seemed. She reached a hand out to touch his arm, an appeal. He shook his head, brushed her arm aside, and strode off to his car, a cream-colored vintage Jaguar. She stood and watched. Poor Alice, I thought.
    I said good-bye to everyone in the office and stepped outside. Penn was just pulling out of the lot, turning right, east, toward the church, toward the ocean. Alice watched him until his car was out of sight, then turned to face me. We stood, the silence lingering awkwardly between us. A muscle twitched in her neck. I guessed Penn had been the bearer of more bad news. If I were her, I wouldn’t want to talk about it, at least not with a relative stranger like me.
    â€œBye-bye,” I said aiming for a light tone. “I’ll let you know when the appraisal’s done.” I turned away and hurried toward the last row of the parking lot, where I’d parked.
    â€œPenn didn’t want to blindside me,” she said in a brittle monotone.
    I stopped and looked at her. Her eyes burned into mine. Earlier she’d sounded philosophical. Now she sounded angry.
    â€œHe said he came to tell me in person because we’re friends. Ha. Some friend. His segment tonight will explain what my impending indictment for fraud means to the alleged victims, and whether