Jaine Austen 1 - This Pen for Hire Read Online Free Page A

the police?”
    “No, I tried to give her artificial respiration. I thought maybe I could save her. But I couldn’t. And then the police came and found me, with her blood all over me.”
    “Who called the police?”
    “One of the neighbors. The lady next door. I told the cops I didn’t do it, but I could tell they didn’t believe me.” He was chewing on his lower lip so hard, I was surprised it wasn’t bleeding. “My mom’s so upset, I’m afraid she’s going to have a heart attack.”
    “Don’t worry, Howard. You can’t go to jail for something you didn’t do.”
    “But I am in jail.”
    He had a point there.
    “Have you called an attorney?”
    “Yeah, I found one in the Yellow Pages.”
    Oh, great. I could see it now. The judge asks Howard, “How do you plead?” And Howard, thanks to the crackerjack advice he gets from his Yellow Pages attorney, answers, “On my knees, Your Honor.”
    “Don’t you know any other attorney?”
    “Just my cousin Bruce, but he’s been disbarred.”
    I smiled what I hope was an encouraging smile. “I’m sure everything’s going to be okay,” I lied.
    I waved good-bye through the fingerprints in the glass partition and left him sitting there, still holding the phone to his ear, a geek caught in the headlights.
     
    I was walking down the corridor, trying to get the smell of oatmeal out of my nostrils, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
    “Ms. Austen?”
    I turned around and saw a cop who couldn’t have been more than twelve, trying to look stern.
    “Detective Rea would like to see you.”
    Minutes later, I was being ushered into the office of Detective Timothy Rea. Luckily, it didn’t smell of oatmeal. It did, however, smell of cigarettes and gym socks.
    Detective Rea was a tall, good-looking guy with reddish blond hair and ears just a little too big for his head. He reminded me of Joey Ross, a kid I went to elementary school with. Joey was a world-class wiseass, always challenging the teachers and acting like he knew all the answers. And the irritating thing about Joey was that he really did know all the answers. He was a smart guy, and he never let you forget it.
    Detective Rea looked just like Joey during a pop quiz.
    “Have a seat, Ms. Austen.”
    He gestured to a chair that had clearly been around since Los Angeles belonged to the Spaniards.
    “Howard tells me you helped him write this letter.”
    He held up the dratted letter.
    I nodded weakly.
    “Did you know he was lying about being Rupert Murdoch’s nephew? We checked with Mr. Murdoch, and he says he has no nephew named Howard.”
    “Actually, that was my idea,” I said, shame bubbling to my cheeks. “Howard didn’t want to lie. I talked him into it. It’s all my fault.”
    “Then maybe we should book you as an accessory,” Rea joked. At least, I hoped he was joking.
    “Look,” I said, “I know I don’t have any training in this sort of thing, but I’m a very good judge of character, and I just can’t believe Howard is capable of murder. I mean, if he wanted to kill Stacy, why would he leave a paper trail? Why wouldn’t he have just followed her home from the gym and killed her in an alley or something?”
    Detective Rea looked at me with appraising eyes.
    “You’re right.”
    I sighed with relief. Obviously Howard’s arrest was all a terrible mistake. I could go home and soak in the tub and forget the whole thing ever happened.
    “You don’t have any training whatsoever in police matters. And if you’ll pardon my saying so, you don’t know what you’re talking about. We found Howard covered in his victim’s blood, holding the ThighMaster.”
    “The ThighMaster?”
    “The murder weapon.”
    “Stacy was bludgeoned to death with a ThighMaster?”
    He nodded somberly. “The woman in Apartment Seven heard Howard screaming and called the police.”
    “But that doesn’t mean he killed her. Maybe somebody else was in the apartment before him. Maybe that person ran off when he heard