Murder on the Potomac Read Online Free Page B

room. There’s no congregation.”
    “I just want to be heard,” said the reverend.
    “Oh, you will. Believe me, you will.” He announced to the rest of the cast, “That’s a wrap.”
    “Ride home?” Chip Tierney asked his sister.
    “No, thanks. I’m having a drink with Seymour. He has a friend in New York who might have a part for me off-Broadway.”
    Sy’s casting couch? Chip wondered. Oh, well, there wasn’t anything he could do about it, any more than his father had been able to dissuade Suzanne from pursuing a theatrical career. But it saddened him. Suzanne’s opendefiance of her father had caused unbearable tension in the household.
    “See you then,” Chip said. “Sun and I are out of here.”
    “Ginny and Mitch are at Bullfeathers,” Terri said. “I promised to meet them there.”
    “Not tonight, sweetie,” Chip said, pulling her close and kissing her ear. “Another time.”
    Pout.
    Chip and Sun Ben each maintained an apartment in the three-acre Tierney complex high on the Potomac Palisades. Chip’s quarters were in a wing at the rear of the house. Cheong lived in rooms over a six-car garage that had been renovated especially for him.
    Suzanne lived by choice in a shabby apartment on Fourth Street, in the shadow of I-395’s overpass. She worked during the day as an assistant to a Washington theatrical booking agent who specialized in providing magic acts, singing telegrams, and strippers for private parties.
    “Ready?” Suzanne asked Fletcher after the others had left.
    His back was to her. “Have to cancel,” he said. “The Dragon Lady is coming to discuss the budget.”
    “When did you find that out?” she asked.
    “This morning.”
    “But you said we were going out after the rehearsal.”
    “Yeah, I know.” He turned. “Go on home.”
    “What about the part in New York you wanted to talk to me about?”
    “Tomorrow. We’ll discuss it tomorrow. I can’t brush off Juris. You know that.”
    “Oh, of course not. The Dragon Lady happens to beDaddy’s bag lady. You couldn’t possibly offend Pauline Juris, could you, Seymour?”
    “Knock it off, Suzanne. You know I hate her as much as you do.”
    “But I don’t try to hide it. Ms. Juris knows exactly what I feel about her. Does she know how
you
feel?”
    “It doesn’t matter. Look, sorry about breaking our date. We’ll do it tomorrow after rehearsal. Okay?” He kissed her on the cheek.
    She spun on a heel and marched from the theater, leaving the director, a failed thespian, standing alone in the harsh, naked light of a single bulb that scrawled his shadow across the scarred floor.

5
    Later That Same Night
    “Well, how did it go?” Mac asked Annabel when she returned. “They make you chairperson by proclamation?”
    Smith had devoted the evening to reading briefs written by his students while Annabel attended her first meeting of the National Building Museum’s board. Their Great Blue Dane, Rufus, had wedged himself beneath Smith’s desk for most of the time, forcing his master to prop stockinged feet on the beast’s torso. At the sound of Annabel inserting her key, the dog got up quickly, nearly tipping Smith out of his chair.
    “Interesting,” Annabel responded, kicking off her shoes and vigorously rubbing Rufus’s sizable ears. “Fill you in soon as I change.”
    She emerged from the bedroom wearing Smith’s favoritefrayed blue terry-cloth robe over a shortie nightgown. “Make me a drink?” she said, settling on the couch and tucking her bare feet beneath her.
    Smith poured a cognac, picked up his almost empty snifter from the desk, and joined her. They touched crystal rims. “To the new member of the board,” he said, kissing her.
    “Thank you.” She sipped and smacked her lips.
    “Was that in appreciation of the kiss or the cognac?” Mac said.
    “Both were vintage—very smooth and very warm. Wendell Tierney runs a smooth ship.”
    “I wouldn’t expect less. What was the chief topic of