In-Laws & Outlaws Read Online Free Page B
Author: Ally Gray
thanked Mandy, feeling a sudden surge of relief that her good friend Detective Rod Sims would sweep in any second and get things under control. He’d saved the day on previous mishaps that had occurred at some of their events, and knowing they were all in his capable hands took much of the pressure off of her.
Instead, a scrappy-looking woman who looked to be in her early thirties, wearing a badly fitting suit—complete with matching pants and blazer like a character on a TV crime drama—barged into the room, flashed her badge, and began issuing orders.
“All right! I want everyone lined up in these chairs,” she barked, pointing to the child-sized furniture that still lined the walls. “On the double people!”
“Where’s Rod?” Stacy asked her assistant, but Mandy only shrugged.
“Hey! You there! Cuties! I said to take a seat!” the detective snapped, pointing for Stacy and Mandy to join the others. Stacy smiled politely and stepped forward.
“There’s a misunderstanding here. I’m Anastacia East, the director of Events by Design,” she said, offering her hand. The detective eyed her up and down with a sneer, ignoring the offer of a friendly handshake.
“And I’m Detective McFadden, and I’m here to figure out which one of you is my perp. Now get in line!” she roared. Stacy blinked in surprise.
“Detective, I can make your job a whole lot easier,” she said sweetly. Stacy pointed to the entire room, sweeping her arm in a broad stroke that encompassed all of the onlookers. “They’re all guilty. Every one of them.”
----
I t was only an hour after the police had hauled off the entire crowd of attendees, all of them howling loudly in protest, and they’d finished cleaning up from the practice rehearsal that the sound of approaching sirens pulling up outside Stacy’s window alerted her to the fact that something was wrong. She looked up from the paperwork she was currently drafting to see multiple squad cars coming up the winding drive to the old house, screeching to a stop at jagged angles all over the yard. It was odd and probably a little on the deranged side that her first thought wasn’t about a possible crime or any kind of danger, given the amount of police presence, but instead that they’d better not damage the landscaping since there were fourteen events on the premises in the coming month.
“What’s going on?” she asked her assistant, Mandy, who was busy at her own desk just outside Stacy’s office. Mandy just shook her head and joined her boss at the window. Together they peeked out carefully, half expecting to see a deranged knife-wielding man in a clown suit being chased by the Keystone Cops. Instead, it was quiet… too quiet.
“Should we open the door, or wait for them to break it down?” Mandy stage-whispered to Stacy. They continued to peer around the drapes, but couldn’t see anything that told them something was wrong. There was definite movement from the police officers in their vehicles, and a few cars were already empty, which indicated some of the officers had disappeared to parts of the grounds that they couldn’t see from their vantage point.
Suddenly, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass near where they stood caused both women to scream and dive for cover behind an antique divan. Gruff shouting quickly followed the explosive noise, along with the echoes of heavy boots stomping across the hardwood floors of the entryway. More yelling came from different rooms throughout the building as the officers located people going about their work.
Stacy and Mandy watched from beneath the heavy furniture as more feet trampled past, leaving clear evidence of her distraught landscaping on the antique hallway runner. As loud shouts and the occasional sickening crash came from farther parts of the building, Stacy thought it might be safe to sit up and get a better look. Instead, an audible sound near her ear made her blood turn to ice in her veins, her
Instead, a scrappy-looking woman who looked to be in her early thirties, wearing a badly fitting suit—complete with matching pants and blazer like a character on a TV crime drama—barged into the room, flashed her badge, and began issuing orders.
“All right! I want everyone lined up in these chairs,” she barked, pointing to the child-sized furniture that still lined the walls. “On the double people!”
“Where’s Rod?” Stacy asked her assistant, but Mandy only shrugged.
“Hey! You there! Cuties! I said to take a seat!” the detective snapped, pointing for Stacy and Mandy to join the others. Stacy smiled politely and stepped forward.
“There’s a misunderstanding here. I’m Anastacia East, the director of Events by Design,” she said, offering her hand. The detective eyed her up and down with a sneer, ignoring the offer of a friendly handshake.
“And I’m Detective McFadden, and I’m here to figure out which one of you is my perp. Now get in line!” she roared. Stacy blinked in surprise.
“Detective, I can make your job a whole lot easier,” she said sweetly. Stacy pointed to the entire room, sweeping her arm in a broad stroke that encompassed all of the onlookers. “They’re all guilty. Every one of them.”
----
I t was only an hour after the police had hauled off the entire crowd of attendees, all of them howling loudly in protest, and they’d finished cleaning up from the practice rehearsal that the sound of approaching sirens pulling up outside Stacy’s window alerted her to the fact that something was wrong. She looked up from the paperwork she was currently drafting to see multiple squad cars coming up the winding drive to the old house, screeching to a stop at jagged angles all over the yard. It was odd and probably a little on the deranged side that her first thought wasn’t about a possible crime or any kind of danger, given the amount of police presence, but instead that they’d better not damage the landscaping since there were fourteen events on the premises in the coming month.
“What’s going on?” she asked her assistant, Mandy, who was busy at her own desk just outside Stacy’s office. Mandy just shook her head and joined her boss at the window. Together they peeked out carefully, half expecting to see a deranged knife-wielding man in a clown suit being chased by the Keystone Cops. Instead, it was quiet… too quiet.
“Should we open the door, or wait for them to break it down?” Mandy stage-whispered to Stacy. They continued to peer around the drapes, but couldn’t see anything that told them something was wrong. There was definite movement from the police officers in their vehicles, and a few cars were already empty, which indicated some of the officers had disappeared to parts of the grounds that they couldn’t see from their vantage point.
Suddenly, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass near where they stood caused both women to scream and dive for cover behind an antique divan. Gruff shouting quickly followed the explosive noise, along with the echoes of heavy boots stomping across the hardwood floors of the entryway. More yelling came from different rooms throughout the building as the officers located people going about their work.
Stacy and Mandy watched from beneath the heavy furniture as more feet trampled past, leaving clear evidence of her distraught landscaping on the antique hallway runner. As loud shouts and the occasional sickening crash came from farther parts of the building, Stacy thought it might be safe to sit up and get a better look. Instead, an audible sound near her ear made her blood turn to ice in her veins, her
Readers choose
Patrick Astre
Kathryn Le Veque
The Nomad Harp
Lyndon Stacey
Chris Carter
Elly Griffiths
Jodi Thomas
John Connolly