Gossamer Ghost Read Online Free

Carmela, Babcock looked wonderful. His pale blue shirt matched a tie of a slightly deeper tone that picked up the intensity and color of his eyes.
    An Armani tie? Carmela wondered, as her heart did a small flip-flop. Had to be. Only the best for Babcock, always the most stylish duds. She knew that, someday,
GQ
magazine was going to do a feature on the ten best-dressed detectives in the country and Babcock was probably going to top the list. Then she wondered—how on earth could she be turned on by Babcock and completely repulsed by Joubert’s murder at the same time? Those were two emotions that didn’t seem to coexist, yet there they were. All intertwined and smooshed together in her slightly addled, hyperactive brain. Go figure.
    â€œSo,” said Babcock. He rocked back on his heels when he caught sight of Carmela and Ava on the front sidewalk. “We seem to have a rather large problem here.”
    â€œI’ll say,” said Ava, who loved to be in on the action. Any kind. Even police action.
    Babcock gestured toward the front door of Oddities. “Is it unlocked?”
    â€œYes,” Carmela said in a small voice. “That’s how I left it.”
Especially
since I
came flying out of there like a crazed banshee.
    Carmela wished that Babcock would look at her, really
see
her, instead of holding her at arm’s length, treating her like some sort of suspect or witness. On the other hand, that’s probably what she was.
    Babcock cocked a finger at one of the uniformed officers. “Lambert, you come inside with me. Wallace, stay by the door. Don’t let anybody else in.”
    â€œCrime-scene guys are here,” said Wallace, as a shiny black van pulled up tight to the curb.
    â€œSend them in,” said Babcock. “As soon as they unload their gear.” He sighed as he led his little group into Oddities, and then stopped short when he saw the body. He held up a hand, indicating for them all to wait. Then he stepped forward, took a cursory look at the very dead Marcus Joubert, and said, “Carmela, you’re going to have to walk us through this.”

“W HAT happened was . . .” Carmela began. She was ready to let it all come bubbling out. The terror, her jangled nerves, her fear that Joubert’s dead body might come stumbling after her.
    But Babcock held up a finger. “Let’s wait a second for the crime-scene guys.” He glanced around. “Aren’t there any decent lights in this place? Where are the lights, anyway?”
    â€œIt’s like a tomb in here,” said Ava, which caused Carmela to flinch.
    Officer Lambert scurried around, finally locating switches and flipping on several overhead lights.
    â€œOh man,” said Ava, as Joubert’s dead body was revealed in the now harsh light. “That’s just . . . rude.”
    â€œYou really shouldn’t be in here,” said Babcock. He shook his head. “Why is she in here?”
    Nobody offered an answer until Carmela finally said, “I need Ava for moral support.”
    â€œRight,” said Ava, giving a slow wink. “I gotta keep watch on her morals.”
    â€œExcuse me, excuse me,” a youthful voice called out. “Coming through.”
    It was the crime-scene team, a flying wedge of three men all wearing dark blue jumpsuits and carrying black leather cases along with a clanking gurney.
    â€œCharlie,” said Babcock, nodding at the young man at the head of the group. Charlie Preston was the crime-scene team’s young wunderkind. A smart, persistent technician who considered every case he handled a personal challenge.
    â€œHey, Charlie,” said Ava. The two had met before and she was well aware of this young man’s interest in her.
    Charlie looked around, surprised, and then grinned impishly at her. “Ava. What are
you
doing here?”
    â€œAnother day, another murder,” Ava quipped.
    â€œCan we