Grandma didn’t care about the THIS IS A SMOKE-FREE ENVIRONMENT sign on the wall just behind her. She took a drag of her cigarette and let out a long stream of smoke. “Made up your mind, huh?”
“I made up my mind as soon as Joel walked out on me,” I told her, and though I’d never put it into words before, I knew it was true. “I guess I just needed to tie up some loose ends.”
She smiled and looked over to where Joel was just opening the box I’d given him. On tiptoe, Simone looked over his shoulder, and her mouth fell open.
“I’m going to stay with the ring,” Grandma said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Stop in sometime if you’re looking for someone to talk to.”
She gave me a wink. “I’ll remember that, kid.”
By this time, Joel was blubbering something about Paris and the Eiffel Tower, and Nazis.
“You think they’ll ever figure it out?” I asked Grandma.
She grinned. “Doesn’t matter, does it? That’s the whole point. Where the ring came from, that doesn’t make any difference. All that really matters is what it stands for. You think they’ll be happy?”
Before I walked out the door, I glanced over my shoulder toward the front of the room. Joel was just slipping Grandma’s diamond on Simone’s finger.
“I hope so,” I told Grandma. “I really do.”
I couldn’t have been inside the hotel for more than twenty minutes, but by the time I stepped outside, it was colder. Not wanting to ruin the fashion statement, I hadn’t bothered with a coat. I slung my purse on my shoulder and chafed my hands over my bare arms.
I had one more thing to do before the night was over.
Before I had a chance, though, a rush of wind nearly knocked me off my feet. I braced a hand against a lamppost and closed my eyes to keep out the grit and dust that blew around me, and I didn’t open them again until I felt something slap against my leg.
I bent to retrieve it. It was a postcard. No big deal, right? Except that it wasn’t a picture of Cleveland, and let’s face it, that’s what I expected, a postcard someone had purchased and dropped.
This postcard showed an imposing array of granite pillars. It reminded me of some of the monuments I’d seen at Garden View.
I turned the card over and read the caption, “Graceland Cemetery,” it said. “Chicago.”
Weird, yes? But wait, things were about to get even stranger. Because that’s not all it said. In the spot where folks usually write their wish-you-were-here messages was one single word, written in red ink.
“Help.”
A shiver skittered over my shoulders, but hey, was I worried?
Not a chance!
For one thing, Chicago was far away, and I wasn’t planning on going there anytime soon. And for another…well, I had better things to worry about.
I tucked the postcard in my purse and pulled out two pieces of paper. One was the card where Quinn had written his phone number. The other was the cocktail napkin Dan had given me the last time I saw him, the one with his number on it. While I was at it, I grabbed my cell phone, too.
It was time for me to get on with my life, to laugh and run. I was suddenly craving all the possibilities life had to offer, and I knew just where to start.
I made the phone call.
About the Author
CASEY DANIELS once applied for a job as a tour guide in a cemetery. She didn’t get the job, but she did get the idea for the Pepper Martin mystery series. Casey learned to love mysteries early thanks to her father, a Cleveland Police detective who enjoyed Sherlock Holmes stories and spent his days off searching for stolen cars—with Casey along for the ride. Later, she read her way through every mystery on the library shelves. Casey has a degree in English and a background in journalism and teaching. She is the author of two previous Pepper Martin mysteries, Don of the Dead and The Chick and the Dead, and lives in Northeast Ohio. You can visit her website at www.caseydaniels.com.
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By Casey Daniels
TOMBS OF ENDEARMENT
THE CHICK AND THE DEAD
DON OF THE DEAD
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
TOMBS OF ENDEARMENT. Copyright © 2007 by Connie Laux. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Mobipocket Reader August 2007 ISBN 978-0-06-153555-0
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