Merry Jones - Elle Harrison 02 - Elective Procedures Read Online Free Page A

woman has at least one body part that she despises.”
    “Where did you get that astounding statistic? The brochure for plastic surgery?”
    “No, Susan. It’s a known fact. Admit it: each of you would change something if you could.”
    “I don’t think I would.” Becky shook her head. “I wouldn’t have the guts.”
    “You don’t need to change anything, Becky.” Susan swallowed ravioli.
    “What about the risk?” I’d asked. “Every surgery has risks—”
    “Okay—FTS.”
    I scrambled to translate. Fuck this shit?
    Jen put down her utensils and folded her hands. “You guys can effing do what you want. I’m going with or without you. I’m nipping old age in the bud.”
    Old age? We were in our thirties. We’d stared at her in silence.
    “Fine, bitches. Let your hair go gray. Let your necks crinkle and your butts flatten and your boobs sag. I’m off to Mexico and the fabulous Dr. Alain Du Bois. And, no matter how much BS grief you give me, you know you’re all coming with me.” Jen had ended the discussion.
    A week later, as Jen had dictated, we were in our hotel suite in Mexico. And so was the distinguished Dr. Du Bois.
    Jen batted her to-die-for eyelashes at him. “I guess you’re here to discuss the procedures?”
    Dr. Du Bois hesitated. “Procedures?”
    Jen stood still, her smile transforming into a pout.
    “No need, my dear. I’m fully prepared for you. No, I’ve come for another reason.” He paused. “I got a call from the police. About the woman next door, Claudia Madison. She was also my patient.”
    Jen’s mouth opened, formed an
O
.
    “I’m so sorry,” Becky offered. “You must be terribly upset.”
    Dr. Du Bois cleared his throat, blinked rapidly. “Yes. It’s tragic. But the police mentioned that one of you was there. With her when she—”
    Jen and Becky looked at me. Dr. Du Bois followed their gazes. “It was you? May I ask your name?”
    I told him.
    “If you don’t mind, Ms. Harrison—”
    “Elle.” Why had I said that?
    He nodded. “Elle, if you don’t mind. Tell me. Before she fell, did Claudia say anything?”
    “No.” Something in his eyes made me add, “Sorry.”
    He searched my face. “You saw her? How beautiful she was?”
    Beautiful? I remembered desperate eyes. A mouth twisted with terror. “I wasn’t with her very long.”
    He looked at his hands. “You see the police implied that herdeath might have been suicide. You were there. So, forgive me, but I need to ask.” He looked at me. “Did Claudia do this to herself?”
    Sergeant Perez had discounted that possibility, but I considered it. Theoretically, she could have climbed over the railing intending to jump, then changed her mind. I saw her dangling, her violet eyes locking onto mine, her hand reaching out for me.
    “Elle didn’t see how she got there.” Susan stood beside me. Becky put a protective hand on my arm.
    I looked at Dr. Du Bois. “She didn’t want to fall. She tried to take my hand.” That much I knew.
    He nodded. Took a breath. “So, it was murder then. Did you see who did it?”
    “She’s told the police everything she knows.” Susan tried to fend off his questions.
    Again, I watched the woman fall, arms flapping. “I didn’t see anyone but her.”
    He leaned forward, watched me for another moment. “Well, I had to ask. At least you agree it wasn’t suicide. I told the police that it couldn’t have been; Claudia was happy. Of course, she still had some swelling, but her neck was already smooth as silk and her jawline taut as a teenager’s. And her lips—I plumped them like ripe strawberries. She looked twenty years younger, with not a wrinkle, not a line. Suicide would be impossible. Unthinkable. The woman was a living work of art. She would never harm herself.”
    Susan eyed him. “You seem to have known her well. Are you that close with all your patients?” She had the tone of a criminal attorney, interrogating.
    “You are very astute, madam. No, not with