Green Living Can Be Deadly (A Blossom Valley Mystery) Read Online Free Page B

want you messing around in this.”
    I tried to wave to Jason, but he had his back to me as he busily scribbled in his notepad, all business. Detective Palmer released my elbow and led the way across the street. I trudged behind, trying to ignore all the stares and whispers from the growing crowd, but failing. At least he didn’t have a grip on me anymore. People wouldn’t mistake me for a felon about to be handcuffed.
    He unlocked the passenger side of a blue Ford Taurus and opened the door, motioning me to sit down. Once I was settled in the worn leather seat, he slammed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, giving me a few seconds to have a mild panic attack. I managed to get my breathing under control before he opened his door and slid in.
    “Now, then,” he said, “tell me about finding the body.”
    In a flash, I saw a chance to escape from the car. “That’s where you’re mistaken. I didn’t find the body. You need to talk to Kimmie.” I placed a hand on the inside handle. “Let me get her for you.” I pushed the door partway open.
    “Hold it.” Detective Palmer didn’t speak that loudly, but his voice held enough authority that I froze with one foot halfway out of the car. “Shut that. We’re not done.”
    I pulled my leg inside and closed the door, but I kept my fingers wrapped around the handle. I told myself to calm down. Surely, the detective didn’t think I was involved in Wendy’s death, and I needed to do everything I could to help him.
    “If this Kimmie found the body, what part did you play?” Detective Palmer picked up a notebook from the center console.
    “Kimmie and I walked to the booth together, but I stopped to tell Zennia about the tofu wraps they were selling at the other end of the street. Before I got the chance, Kimmie started screaming. I ran next door and saw Wendy’s body. Then Kimmie fainted. I asked a guy to call 911, and the paramedics showed up. That’s it.”
    “You called her ‘Wendy.’ You knew the deceased?” He asked the question in a monotone, but the little hairs on my neck prickled all the same.
    “A long time ago. We were good friends in middle school and hung out a bit in high school, but I hadn’t seen her since graduation.”
    “Why only a bit?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “If you were such good friends, why did you only hang out a bit in high school?”
    I shrugged. “We ended up on different tracks. Kimmie and Wendy had one lunch period, while I had the other. With no classes together, we eventually drifted apart. I made a new set of friends.”
    “You sure there wasn’t more to it? An argument about a boyfriend, maybe?”
    “What are you getting at?” I asked.
    Detective Palmer tapped his pen on the notepad. The noise sounded ridiculously loud in the confined space. “Maybe Wendy didn’t want to be friends anymore. Maybe you harbored some resentment over that and it resurfaced when you saw her today.”
    I stared at him. “Are you for real? Who would hold a grudge for ten years? Besides, Wendy was still my friend in high school. We just didn’t see each other very often.” I shifted in my seat and exhaled loudly through my nose. He couldn’t really believe such an absurd theory, could he?
    Detective Palmer tapped the notebook with his pen again. I wanted to grab that pen and throw it out of the car, but some law surely existed on the books about throwing an officer’s writing utensil away.
    “Relax,” Detective Palmer said. “I get paid to ask.” He flipped to a new page. “Now, then, tell me when you first saw the murder victim today.”
    My stomach seized. I was almost positive Wendy had been murdered, but to hear Detective Palmer confirm my guess added an extra layer of reality to the situation.
    “Well, I think it was around nine-thirty, maybe ten. I got here shortly after nine, set up the table and the photo collage, then waited around for people to show up. No one did, so I figured I’d see what other