Swan Song (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) Read Online Free Page A

suddenly realized she was famished and looked at her watch. Two o’clock.
    Julie took the file into her office and reluctantly set it on her desk, having decided to work on it after lunch. She stood there for a moment looking at it, puzzled. There was something very wrong about this “suicide”. Julie almost felt as if Dianna was depending on her to get at the truth.
    Without doubt, once she got into that file, she’d forget all about eating.
    * * * * * 
     
    Chapter 5
    T he two-bedroom block and stucco house was modest, although it was in a gated, golf course community. In the mix of larger homes and condos, this one was decidedly average. Julie followed Joe up the walk, noting that the Wieland’s place was neat, but unattractive. There were no flowers or personal touches. Although it was owned, the house had the appearance of a short-term rental…a place to which the occupants had no attachment.
    Frank Wieland opened the door.
    “Hi, Joe, good to see you,” he said, shaking Joe’s hand.
    The man was slim and tall, with deeply receding brown hair and pale, freckled skin. He wore a cardigan sweater over a plaid shirt with suspenders. He was in Florida in body only and still had “Northerner” written all over him. An equally tall, dark haired woman with empty eyes and sunken cheeks stood behind him. She wore a floral dress, now faded to pastel.
    “Hello, Frank, Betty. It’s good to see you, too. This is my friend, Julie O’Hara.”
    “Hello, Mr. Wieland, thank you for allowing me to come over,” said Julie.
    He shook her hand.
    “Not at all, thank you for coming. C’mon in.”
    Julie stepped forward and held her hand out to his wife, who might otherwise have only nodded. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wieland.”
    With a weak smile, Betty Wieland followed her husband’s lead.
    “Yes…you, too.”
    They walked through a formal living room to a family room off the kitchen.
    The couple led the way to a tan leather couch and loveseat behind a heavy pewter and glass coffee table. A matching recliner completed the third side of a square. The arrangement faced a moderate-sized flat-screen TV surrounded by walnut shelves. Shelves filled with ice skating plaques and trophies…Dianna’s, Julie assumed.
    “Can I get you some iced tea or water?” asked Betty.
    Julie and Joe accepted the tea. Betty Wieland brought four glasses from the kitchen to the coffee table, two at a time, setting them directly on the glass. Frank Wieland reached for a stack of coasters and put one under each glass.
    Something a woman would do…or a perfectionist.
    Sensitive to the Wielands’ need to ease into conversation about Dianna, they talked about the community for a few minutes. The small talk also gave Julie time to study the couple.
    After years of experience, Julie and a psychologist colleague had objectively tested the accuracy of her initial impressions. She had scored ninety-percent. Given her specialty, this was no surprise to her. Scientific observation in the field of body language had proven that rapid cognition was a common human ability and highly reliable. Julie had great respect for “snap judgment”. Unfortunately, what she saw before her was a deeply divided couple.
    As they’d planned, she let Joe introduce the subject of their visit.
    “Let me assure you folks, Julie and I both want to know why this terrible thing happened. We’ve worked together on other cases, and it’s our intention to re-interview as many people as possible who had any association with Dianna. As you know, Julie was there that day.”
    That was her cue.
    “I haven’t been able to forget that morning. May I call you Frank and Betty?”
    “Of course,” said Frank.
    “While Joe and I can’t promise you resolution, I can assure you that we won’t leave any stone unturned,” said Julie. “Sometimes, a second, deeper look can uncover things that were held back. Particularly in a case like this where so much importance rests on the