The Fallen Angels Book Club Read Online Free Page A

might be on speaking terms with a murderer. I certainly had been friendly enough with the victim. I shoved all doubts to the back of my mind and started typing. Three hours and six pages later, my eyes started to glaze over.
    Needing a break, I decided to pay a visit to my favorite bookstore, Do Over, on the other side of town. The day was clear but bone-chilling cold. I pulled my coat closer. Once again I thanked the gods for pointing me to San Lucian. Located next to the cities of San Leandro and San Lorenzo, San Lucian was a much-admired San Francisco East Bay Area community. Warm and welcoming, it was more of an oversized neighborhood than a city.
    A yoga class was finishing up. Theo, the owner, nodded in recognition when I came in. He wouldn’t engage me in conversation unless I gave him a high sign and this time I didn’t.
    Taking out my statement draft, I poured myself a cup of the orange cinnamon tea offered at the complimentary station and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs in the reading corner. I took my time sipping tea and looking at the few customers who appeared to be like me—trying to find a temporary refuge from whatever.
    Murdered like the victim in our book club selection.
    Why would a Fallen Angel kill Rory?
    Any way I looked at it, Rory must have said or done something that had seriously aggravated a member, but who? No one ever took him seriously.
    I glanced up at the door when the bell jingled and then turned my head away in disbelief as the tall lean frame of Detective John Faber appeared. Dressed in faded jeans and a maroon V-neck pullover, he wore an Oakland A’s cap and a speculative look. Our eyes locked. Seemingly as surprised as I, he walked over.
    â€œGood morning,” he said. “This is my first time here. I didn’t realize it would be on your list of bookstores.” As if sensing my discomfort he stood a couple of feet away.
    I mentally collected myself and came up with a half-smile. “It’s one of my favorite getaways. I didn’t know you were a book lover.”
    â€œActually, I read quite a lot.” Faber paused. “Well, considering the circumstances, I think it’s best I leave and return another time.”
    I frowned. “Yes, I guess so. It was nice seeing you, Detective, outside of the ‘circumstances,’ I mean.”
    He gave me an appraising look. “Yeah, it was nice seeing you, too, Ms. Morgan.”
    Then he walked away.
    It took some effort to shake off the encounter. Two cups of tea and four new sentences later I was calmer and ready to settle down and write.

    Back at home, the light on my answering machine blinked with two messages. It didn’t matter. I didn’t want any distractions. I moved to the dining room and glanced blankly at the stack of pages on the table.
    â€œWhat the hell.” I turned, went back to the kitchen, and pushed the message button.
    â€œHey, Rebecca, it’s me.” I stiffened and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. “I know you must be blown away with my calling. I had a hard time finding you. You changed your name, but I still had Rita’s number. Boy, did I give my ex sister-in-law a shock when she heard my voice on the phone. Look, we need to talk. I know you must hate me, but this is serious. It’s important to both of us. Give me a call. I’m at the Holiday Inn in San Francisco. I’m checking out tomorrow. Call me, please.”
    Anger welled up inside me even as I pushed the button to get the next message. I caught my breath. Anger was replaced by shock.
    â€œRebecca, Bill called. I gave him your number. I didn’t tell him where you live or work. He tried hard to find out. He said it was urgent and he had to speak to you. He threatened to bother Mom next, and well … I had to give him your number. Give me a call if you want to talk. I’m sorry. There was nothing I could do.”
    I pushed erase.
    Rita hadn’t spoken to me