Shadow of Doubt (A Kali O'Brien legal mystery) Read Online Free
Author: Jonnie Jacobs
but I could drop by Jannine’s on my way home. Maybe, by then, I’d have figured out how you comfort someone when there isn’t any comfort to be had.
<><><>
Mr. Meeder at the bank was very nice, but also painstakingly slow. Although I’d arrived at ten, as scheduled, it was past noon when we finished, or, more accurately, when I’d had about as much as I could take. I hadn’t been able to find the safe deposit key, so the box would have to be drilled out The rest of the paperwork could wait as well.
I stopped by the deli and loaded up on lasagna, roasted chicken, and an assortment of salads, then threw in a couple of bottles of good wine, figuring Jannine might need that more than food. With the kids in mind, I made another stop at the bakery, and then headed for her place.
It was Nona Greely, Jannine’s mother, who opened the door. Her eyes widened instantly. “Kali O’Brien. Gracious me, is that really you?”
I assured her it was, though by then she was hugging me so hard I guessed she’d figured it out on her own. Nona is short and chunky, with an enormous bosom, so that hugging her is something like cuddling a favorite stuffed animal. When I went away to college, her hugs were one of the things I missed most.
“I read about Eddie in the paper this morning,” I told her. “I came to see if there’s anything I can do.”
Her face, which had lit with a smile when she recognized me, darkened again. “Such a terrible, terrible tragedy. How could something like this happen?”
She didn’t expect an answer, and I couldn’t have begun to give her one. Instead, we held on to each other for a moment longer, muted by visions of lives so suddenly, and unalterably, changed.
"How’s Jannine doing?” I asked finally.
“Better than I would be in her shoes. But you know Jannine, solid as they come.” Nona stood aside and gave me a weak smile. “Why don’t you come on in. She’s down at the station, but she ought to be back any minute.”
“The station?”
Nona ushered me into the kitchen where she was in process of making sandwiches. “The police wanted to get her statement. That's what they said anyway, although they talked to her long enough yesterday. I can’t imagine what more they need.”
“Probably an affidavit signed in triplicate on official stationary or some such thing,” I told her, setting my packages on the counter. “You know how bureaucracy works.”
I’d expected a flurry of neighbors and friends, but the house was oddly quiet. If it hadn’t been for the shrill whoops and screeches of the TV cartoon I’d heard on my way in, I’d have thought we were the only people there. “I brought some stuff for dinners. It was the only halfway helpful thing I could think to do. Shall I just stick it in the fridge?”
“Why, honey, how thoughtful. Yes, just stick it in there anywhere you can find room.”
A family refrigerator, I discovered, is not at all like a single woman’s. It was so chock-full of milk cartons and plastic-wrapped bits and pieces I couldn’t recognize that it was a struggle to find room for more. When I’d shifted and shoved enough to close the door, I stopped for a moment to admire the drawings which papered the front. Most of them were Lily’s. Big formless sweeps of purple and red crayon, her name printed at the bottom in Jan nine’s neat hand, along with the date. In the very center was one obviously drawn by an older child—a sketch of a man I took to be Eddie, standing in a field of flowers, the words, “I love you Daddy” scrawled across the top. I could feel the knot in my stomach twist up and grow tighter.
“How are the kids taking it?”
“Lily doesn’t understand, of course. I’m not sure Laurel does either, she’s only four. But the two older ones are pretty shaken.”
Nodding silently, I sank down into one of the yellow rail-back chairs. The years fell away, and I was suddenly back in Nona’s big, pleasantly old-fashioned kitchen
<><><>
Mr. Meeder at the bank was very nice, but also painstakingly slow. Although I’d arrived at ten, as scheduled, it was past noon when we finished, or, more accurately, when I’d had about as much as I could take. I hadn’t been able to find the safe deposit key, so the box would have to be drilled out The rest of the paperwork could wait as well.
I stopped by the deli and loaded up on lasagna, roasted chicken, and an assortment of salads, then threw in a couple of bottles of good wine, figuring Jannine might need that more than food. With the kids in mind, I made another stop at the bakery, and then headed for her place.
It was Nona Greely, Jannine’s mother, who opened the door. Her eyes widened instantly. “Kali O’Brien. Gracious me, is that really you?”
I assured her it was, though by then she was hugging me so hard I guessed she’d figured it out on her own. Nona is short and chunky, with an enormous bosom, so that hugging her is something like cuddling a favorite stuffed animal. When I went away to college, her hugs were one of the things I missed most.
“I read about Eddie in the paper this morning,” I told her. “I came to see if there’s anything I can do.”
Her face, which had lit with a smile when she recognized me, darkened again. “Such a terrible, terrible tragedy. How could something like this happen?”
She didn’t expect an answer, and I couldn’t have begun to give her one. Instead, we held on to each other for a moment longer, muted by visions of lives so suddenly, and unalterably, changed.
"How’s Jannine doing?” I asked finally.
“Better than I would be in her shoes. But you know Jannine, solid as they come.” Nona stood aside and gave me a weak smile. “Why don’t you come on in. She’s down at the station, but she ought to be back any minute.”
“The station?”
Nona ushered me into the kitchen where she was in process of making sandwiches. “The police wanted to get her statement. That's what they said anyway, although they talked to her long enough yesterday. I can’t imagine what more they need.”
“Probably an affidavit signed in triplicate on official stationary or some such thing,” I told her, setting my packages on the counter. “You know how bureaucracy works.”
I’d expected a flurry of neighbors and friends, but the house was oddly quiet. If it hadn’t been for the shrill whoops and screeches of the TV cartoon I’d heard on my way in, I’d have thought we were the only people there. “I brought some stuff for dinners. It was the only halfway helpful thing I could think to do. Shall I just stick it in the fridge?”
“Why, honey, how thoughtful. Yes, just stick it in there anywhere you can find room.”
A family refrigerator, I discovered, is not at all like a single woman’s. It was so chock-full of milk cartons and plastic-wrapped bits and pieces I couldn’t recognize that it was a struggle to find room for more. When I’d shifted and shoved enough to close the door, I stopped for a moment to admire the drawings which papered the front. Most of them were Lily’s. Big formless sweeps of purple and red crayon, her name printed at the bottom in Jan nine’s neat hand, along with the date. In the very center was one obviously drawn by an older child—a sketch of a man I took to be Eddie, standing in a field of flowers, the words, “I love you Daddy” scrawled across the top. I could feel the knot in my stomach twist up and grow tighter.
“How are the kids taking it?”
“Lily doesn’t understand, of course. I’m not sure Laurel does either, she’s only four. But the two older ones are pretty shaken.”
Nodding silently, I sank down into one of the yellow rail-back chairs. The years fell away, and I was suddenly back in Nona’s big, pleasantly old-fashioned kitchen
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