Promissory Payback Read Online Free

Promissory Payback
Book: Promissory Payback Read Online Free
Author: Laurel Dewey
Pages:
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of Mrs. Abernathy and wondered why in the fuck she would think that someone like Jane watched the Family Channel . “Not recently,” Jane replied.
    â€œOh, you should ! It’s so uplifting to the spirit! This particular show was ‘Sharing of the Heart.’ It was all about people traveling the world finding what needs to be fixed or changed and making it happen! Very inspirational .”
    Jesus Christ , Jane thought. Her oldest friend in the world is stiff as a board on a bed not twenty feet away and she’s yammering on about The Family Channel and people fixing the problems in this world . “Inspirational.”
    â€œâ€™Be the change you want to see in this world.’” Laura said with a soft smile, echoing a quote from Gandhi.
    Be the fucking change , Jane mused. She needed to quickly change the subject before Laura tried to sign her up for a peace march. “So you came by this morning?”
    â€œYes,” Laura replied, her face shadowing with sadness.
    â€œHow did you get in the house?”
    â€œI have a key. When Carolyn goes away, I come over and water her plants and pick up her mail. Sometimes I dust.”
    Sometimes I dust ? Jesus! The relationship was now clearly defined for Jane. Laura was Carolyn’s dependable doormat. “And you saw nothing out of place?”

    â€œNo. Nothing.” She leaned to the side to catch another glimpse of Carolyn’s dead body. “Until I got . . .up here ...”
    Jane moved her chair once again to block Laura’s view. “Was the alarm set?”
    Laura settled back in her chair, fatigue beginning to show. “Excuse me?”
    â€œThe security system? Was it set?”
    â€œYes. I know the code. I have one minute from the time I enter to get to the keypad and punch in the five numbers that disable it. Same thing in reverse when I leave. Punch in the code and I have one minute to leave.”
    â€œWhat are those numbers?” Jane asked.
    â€œI can’t remember. It’s based on a word. That’s how Carolyn set it up.”
    â€œAnd what’s that word, Laura?”
    She seemed embarrassed as she leaned forward and quietly revealed the answer. “M-O-N-E-Y.”
    The rest of the interview, Laura fretted that someone needed to contact Carolyn’s only next of kin—her forty-year-old nephew, Joe Harvey—who was out of town in California “talking to a charity.” Jane found his phone number in Carolyn’s Rolodex and made the call. It was another facet of her job that she didn’t excel in. But what was unusual about her quick chat with Joe Harvey was that she got the impression Carolyn’s nephew wasn’t surprised by the news. “I’m in California on business, but I’ll get a plane out today,” he told her, sounding rather inconvenienced by his aunt’s murder.
    Laura was fingerprinted to exclude any prints of hers in the house. She seemed to like the attention she was getting from one of the cops. After her prints were taken, she asked the “nice policeman” who had patiently stood
by her side to please take her home. Another cop would follow behind in Laura’s old car. Jane thought how Laura looked like a playful pixie as she exited the room, her arm hooked under the “nice policeman’s” elbow.
    Jane sidled up to Weyler who was talking quietly with a crime scene tech. “Where are the security tapes?”
    â€œThey’re working on that downstairs,” Weyler replied. Jane stared at Carolyn as a tech took close-up shots of the urine stain and feces next to her body. How far can a person fall to end up like this—having their piss and shit photographed? Fucking humiliating, Jane thought.
    But that was all part of this ritualistic murder scene. Humiliation. Revenge. Shock. Suffering. Karma . People may not remember how you live, but they sure as hell remember how you died if your death was graphic.
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