Long Gone Man Read Online Free Page B

confessional.
    â€œWhy?”
    Lauren’s eyes slid away from Singer’s. “Doesn’t matter now.”
    â€œWhere was the gun?”
    â€œOn the desk. I picked it up. I . . . well I don’t know why. I got even angrier because he was dead. Crazy, it was like he’d cheated me out of having my say.”
    â€œShock is weird like that. Why did you come to the door with the gun?”
    Lauren stared down at the body and didn’t answer.
    â€œWere you afraid of who might be at the door?”
    Still no answer.
    Singer turned away from the repulsive sight spread out on the floor. “We need to phone the police, but let’s do it from another room.”
    Holding the revolver in front of her, Singer went towards the hall door and waited for Lauren. When Lauren joined her, Singer inclined her head towards the door. “Open it.”
    Lauren scrunched up her face. “But what if . . .” Her wide eyes were fixed on Singer.
    Singer pointed at the door with the gun and nodded again. Lauren moved to the side and reached slowly for the grip in the wood panel. Pressed tightly against the wall and out of sight of whatever waited for them, she slid the door back into its pocket.

Nine
    A white mop on four legs ran into the room before the door was fully open. Scooting past Lauren, the small dog skidded to a stop and scrambled to turn on the hardwood. That’s when the dog saw the body through the still-open office door, planted all four feet, and began to howl.
    Lauren hurried to the whimpering and shaking dog. “Missy,” Lauren cooed, squatting to the animal and stroking her. “Poor baby.”
    Singer’s laughter filled the room. Lauren looked up in surprise and then picked up the dog, cradling her pet in her arms, and came to join Singer at the door.
    Lauren’s forehead furrowed. “What’s funny?”
    Singer tucked a frizz of hair behind her ear. “I never thought it would be something so small. I nearly wet myself when I heard her bark.”
    â€œMissy would never hurt you, she loves everyone.”
    As if to prove it was true the little dog leaned out to Singer with its small, pink tongue extended.
    They stepped cautiously into the flagstone foyer. A broad stairway climbed to the left. On the right was the front door and across the flagstone floor was a closed door.
    Lauren pointed left, down a hall that ran the length of the grand staircase, and said in a quiet voice, “The kitchen has a phone.”
    They ran down the hall to the brightly lit kitchen that shone like it had come off the truck the day before, all gleaming granite, stainless steel, and white marble.
    Singer turned in a circle, taking in the kitchen. It was outside of her experience of the world. “Holy shit! How many people work here?”
    Lauren picked up the phone and began punching numbers before she answered Singer’s question. “Only one, Fern Utt. She comes in every morning for three hours. And her son, Foster Utt, comes two afternoons a week to cut grass and do odd jobs.” She leaned back against the counter and waited for someone to answer her call. “Then of course there’s me, I’m full-time.”
    Lauren lifted the mouthpiece from under her chin. “My husband has been shot,” she said and then she began to answer questions.
    Singer listened intently to Lauren’s half of the conversation, half expecting Lauren to tell the Mounties about the strange woman who had killed her husband.
    â€œThey’re on their way,” Lauren said as she hung up the phone.
    Singer let out the breath she’d been holding. Lauren hadn’t betrayed her but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t. “I’m starving,” Singer said. “Mind making me a sandwich?”
    Lauren’s face registered surprise.
    â€œYou made me one before we went out with the dog. Remember? That’s supposed to be our story. So let’s do