Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 01 - Death by Chocolate Read Online Free

Was my friend a fugitive? Was she an ax murderer after all?
    I couldn’t imagine quiet, gentle Paula doing anything bad. Of course, bad and illegal are not necessarily synonymous. Take, for instance, an innocent person going a few miles over the artificially-imposed speed limit.
    However, Paula did not look innocent as she stood rigidly inside the screen door, her stare fixed on the cops on her front porch. She looked scared…and guilty.
    “What do you want to talk to me about?” Her voice was a barely audible croak.
    “Lester McKay,” the Suit replied. “Can we come in?”
    And I’d thought Paula couldn’t get any paler. For a minute I thought she was going to faint. I’d never seen anyone faint before, but the signs were unmistakable.
    S he stood motionless for a moment like a soldier guarding the entrance to the fort. I waited for her to say no, to charge onto the porch and chase them away. I considered doing it for her, telling them they couldn’t come inside without a search warrant. I fervently hoped they didn’t have one of those.
    The cops didn’t say a word, just stood on the porch, watching and waiting. This didn’t look good.
    Suddenly Paula’s shoulders sloped forward in a posture of defeat. She fumbled with the latch, releasing it and opening the door. Her movements robotic and forced, she stepped aside, allowing them to enter.
    The y moved past her, invading her house.
    She stood stiffly, hands behind her back, her expression that of a woman being led to the guillotine…terrified, helpless and resigned to her fate.
    The uniform’s gun belt creaked. Paula gasped and jerked backward.
    The S uit pretended not to notice, but I could tell he did. His eyes narrowed speculatively.
    “I’m Detective Adam Trent,” he said, “and this is Officer Donald Creighton.” Trent was a big man, looming large in the high-ceilinged room. He was the kind who would have loomed large even if he’d been short. The Uniform wasn’t quite so tall or quite so intimidating. I could see this pair doing the good cop/bad cop routine. The Suit would definitely be the bad cop.
    “Like to ask you a few questions,” he said.
    Paula gave a jerky nod of permission.
    “What do you know about Lester Mackey?”
    She swayed slightly. “L-Lester. ”
    “Yes, ma’am. Lester Mackey.”
    She blinked twice and straightened. “Lester Mackey ?” Her voice was stronger. Go, Paula !
    The cops exchanged glances.
    “Yes, ma’am,” Trent said, a little impatiently. “Lester Mackey. What can you tell us about him?”
    She shook her head. “I don’t know anybody by that name.” She almost sounded as if she was on the verge of breaking into laughter, as if she’d just gotten a reprieve from that guillotine.
    “We’re only trying to locate Mr. Mackey,” Trent said. “You’re not going to cause him any trouble by telling us what you know.” His words as well as the sharp edge to his voice indicated he thought Paula was lying and not doing a very good job of it.
    I believed her. Her relief was too visible to doubt.
    “I don’t know anybody named Lester Mackey,” she repeated firmly. She stood with her arms wrapped protectively, defensively across her midriff.
    “Take your time and think about it.” Trent regarded her suspiciously.
    “I don’t have to think about it. I don’t know anybody by that name.” She was becoming indignant. Good for you, Paula! Stand your ground!
    “If you don’t know Lester Mackey, why did he have your name and phone number on a piece o f paper in his apartment?”
    All her relief disappeared , and I could see her mentally mounting the steps to that guillotine again. I knew she had an unlisted number. She’d been reluctant to give it to me. For this Lester Mackey to have it must mean she knew him.
    “My home phone number?” Her voice quavered.
    “That’s right.”
    “I don’t know why he had it or where he got it.”
    “It’s unlisted, so you must have given it to him.”
    “ I