Miss Julia Paints the Town Read Online Free

scribbling on his pad. “And your name and address? I’ll need your age, too.”
    â€œYou’ll need a lot more than that before I’m through.” I slid into the car and slammed the door. The idea, wanting to know my age. What is it with people who think they can ask the most personal questions and expect an answer?
    I cranked the car and backed out, hoping but not especially caring if he was out of the way.
    â€œSam!” I called as I came through the back door at home. “Where is he, Lillian?”
    She turned from the sink, water dripping from her hands. “At his house, I reckon. That’s where he go every morning of the week.”
    â€œOh, well, I was hoping he’d be back by now.”
    Other than his strange omission earlier that morning, Sam was usually fairly regular in his routine. Every weekday he went to the office at his house to work on a legal history of the county, something that kept him occupied and out from underfoot. He said he’d been doing paperwork all his working life, and retirement just meant more of it.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with you anyway?” Lillian said, looking closely at me. “You all out of breath.”
    â€œI’m all right. At least I think I am.” Just as I started across the kitchen, I changed my mind and collapsed onto a chair by the table. “Oh, Lillian, the newspaper is already after Helen. They’re going to smear her all across the front page. I know they will.”
    â€œWhy they do that?” Lillian asked, frowning at the thought. “She don’t take nobody’s money. What she say, anyway?”
    â€œNobody answered the door, and everything was closed up. Oh, Lillian, what if she took off with Richard?” I slumped over the table, then with a renewed spurt of anxiety, said, “A newspaper reporter jumped out of the bushes and wanted to interview me. At first, he thought I was Helen, then he wanted my name and address. And my age !”
    Lillian smiled. “What you tell him?”
    â€œThat it was none of his business,” I said. “Or words to that effect.” I leaned my head on my hand. “Oh, Lillian, this is so upsetting. I don’t know whether to be mad at Richard for stealing or worried about him for being falsely accused. And I don’t know if Helen has aided and abetted him or if she’s as crushed by this as we are.”
    â€œIf I was you,” Lillian counseled, “I wouldn’t judge neither one of ’em, ’less I be judged likewise. You ought to wait ’fore you do anything till you know who done what. But, I tell you one thing, Miz Stroud ought to be gettin’ herself a good lawyer.” Lillian punctuated that statement with a firm nod of her head. “Though I try not to ever need one.”
    â€œMaybe that’s what Sam meant when he offered to help. I know he’d give her good advice. Except he’s retired, and may not be able to. But if they’re coming after her, she does need a good lawyer.”
    â€œMaybe she talk to Miss Binkie.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Binkie doesn’t do criminal law, and Helen may need one who does. Richard certainly will.”
    I started to moan again, but the sound of the front doorbell stopped me. “Maybe that’s Helen now.” I rose from the chair to answer it, then said, “But probably not. If she wouldn’t answer her own door, why would she be at mine?”

    Hurrying through the living room, I hoped my visitor would be Helen or at least someone with news of her. As soon as I opened the door, though, it was LuAnne Conover who breezed past me and headed for my Victorian sofa.
    â€œJulia, I am so mad I could spit,” she declared, her mouth so tight she could barely get the words out. My closest friend for many years plopped down and glared at me as if I were the object of her anger.
    â€œI expect a lot of