The Big Brush-off Read Online Free

and the studio about her next film. Me? I had a novel to write, a character to find again, a career to salvage. “Maybe Laura and I could stop off in Hanover for the memorial service on our way back to California.”
    Father Ryan glanced at Mary and smiled. “How kind and generous of you, Mr. Donovan. It would mean a lot to Mary to have someone who…”
    “Who what?”
    “You were one of the few people in the past ten years who offered Mary hope.”
    I felt like a heel, putting my career and Laura’s ahead of someone who really needed my help.
    I crossed the lobby and stopped beside Mary’s chair. She gazed across the spacious room, ignoring me.
    I gave it my best shot. “Mary, I could make some calls. I know a few detectives who owe me a favor.”
    She coughed into her hankie, an ugly, painful sound. Father Ryan stood beside her with one hand on her shoulder and shook his head.
    Her eyes locked on mine. “Don’t do me any favors.”
    When the coughing ended, Mary balled the cloth, pulled herself to her feet, and leaned on her cane. Her rigid jaw softened. “I thought…” She let out a heavy sigh. “You were my last hope, but like everyone else, you…you moved on.” Her chin trembled. “The Hanover cops closed their file six months after Katie died, six months!”
    Mary’s eyes glistened. “They never gave a damn. Sorry, Father. Whoever killed my Katie is someone important in town, someone who got away with murder, and I’m just a nobody…but you’re somebody…now.”
    I shared her suspicions that someone influential in the community had killed her daughter. I had three prime suspects before I left. One of them was standing beside her, and it wasn’t me.
    She exchanged a glance with the priest. “I shouldn’t have come here, Jake…Mr. Donovan. Father Ryan tried to explain, but I wouldn’t listen. I’m a silly old fool.”
    She clamped her eyes shut a moment and color returned to her face. She spoke in a whisper. “It seemed like a good idea when I boarded the train, but your face tells me my daughter’s murder isn’t important to you.”
    “It’s not that.” I couldn’t drop my obligations to Laura and to my writing.
    “I understand.”
    “My wife and I would like to come to Hanover for the memorial service on Sunday.”
    Through misty eyes, Mary managed a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Donovan. That’s very kind of you.”
    She struggled to her feet and handed me a slip of paper. “Here’s my address.” She squeezed my hand and made her way through the busy lobby.
    Father Ryan gave me an apologetic shrug. “Thank you for your time.”
    They crossed the lobby and headed down the sidewalk. After they disappeared, I stared at the front door. I couldn’t get the woman’s pained expression out of my mind. Reconnecting with Blackie Doyle and reviving my career seemed shallow and insignificant.

Chapter 3
Roses Are Red and I’m a Little Blue
    In the corridor I stood outside our suite for at least a minute, trying to figure out how to explain my meeting with Mildred to Laura. Another couple stepped off the elevator and as they hurried past gave me the eye, like I was some kind of jewel thief.
    I unlocked the door and went inside. The scent of roses hit me like a slap across the face. At least one more vase of flowers had been delivered since I left. The latest issue of
Variety
magazine sat on the table with dozens of cards and fan mail. Everywhere I looked was a reminder of Laura’s success.
    The silence confirmed she’d yet to return from her picture’s final shoot. I dropped the keys on the coffee table and poured a tall drink in a short glass. I stood on the balcony, listening to sirens, car horns, police whistles, screeching tires, and shouted obscenities. I’d been to lots of cities, but New Yorkers had the most creative curse words.
    Nowadays the majority of New Yorkers couldn’t pick out neighbors from a lineup. Most didn’t have two nickels to rub together. Still, at the end of