Daddy's Gone a Hunting Read Free Page B

an explosion sent the staircase crashing down upon them.
    Afterward Kate vaguely remembered trying to brush away the blood that was pouring down her forehead and trying to pull Gus’s inert body with her as she crawled to the door. The flames were licking the walls, and the smoke was blinding and choking her. Then the door had blown open and the gusty winds rushed into the hallway. A sheer savage instinct for survival made Kate grab Gus by the wrists and drag him out a few feet into the parking lot. Then she blacked out.
    When the firemen arrived, they found Kate unconscious, bleeding profusely from a wound in her head, her clothing singed.
    Gus was lying a few feet away, motionless. The weight of the fallen staircase left him with crushing injuries. He was dead.

5

    T he highlight of Wednesday’s end-of-the-day senior staff meeting at Hathaway Haute Couturier was the announcement that Hannah Connelly would receive her own designer label for a number of garments to be shown at the summer fashion shows.
    Hannah’s first thought was to share the wonderful news with her sister Kate, but it was almost 7 P.M. , and she remembered that Kate was meeting their father and his latest girlfriend for cocktails and dinner. Instead she called her best friend, Jessie Carlson, who had been at Boston College for two years with her before Hannah had switched to the Fashion Institute of Technology. Jessie had gone on to Fordham Law School.
    Jessie whooped with delight at the news. “Hannah, my God, that’s great. You’ll be the next Yves St. Laurent. Meet me at Mindoro’s in a half hour. My treat.”
    At seven thirty, the two were seated across from each other in a booth. The dining room of the popular restaurant was crowded and noisy, a tribute to the excellent cooking and friendly atmosphere.
    Roberto, bald and round and smiling, their favorite waiter, poured the wine. “A celebration, girls?” he asked.
    “You bet it is.” Jessie raised her glass. “To the world’s best designer, Hannah Connelly.” Then she added, “Roberto, one of these days we’ll both be saying, ‘We knew her when.’ ”
    Hannah touched Jessie’s glass with hers, took a sip of wine, and only wished she could stop worrying about what might be going on between her father and Kate. Because of the way the family business was floundering, their relationship was going steadily downhill.
    It was as though Jessie were reading Hannah’s mind. “How’s that handsome father of yours?” she asked as she dipped warm Italian bread into the oil she’d poured onto her plate. “Have you told him about this yet? I know he’ll be thrilled for you.”
    Only Jessie could have put it with such an ironic tone in her voice. Hannah looked affectionately at her former classmate. Jessie’s curly red hair was pulled back in a clip, then cascaded down past her shoulders. Her vivid blue eyes were sparkling and her milk-white skin was devoid of makeup. At five feet eleven inches she towered over Hannah even sitting across from her at the table. A born athlete, Jessie’s body was slim and taut. Totally indifferent to fashion, she depended on Hannah when she needed to have something to wear for a special occasion.
    Hannah shrugged. “Oh you know how excited he will be.” She imitated her father’s voice. “ ‘Hannah, that’s wonderful. Wonderful!’ And then he’ll forget what I told him. And a few days later he’ll ask how the designer business is going. The playboy of the Western world never did have much time for Kate or me, and the older he gets the less he has to do with us.”
    Jessie nodded. “I caught the tension the last time I had dinner with you guys. Kate let off a few zingers to your father.”
    Roberto was heading back to the table, menus in hand. “Do you want to order now or wait a few minutes?” he asked.
    “Linguine with clam sauce and the house salad.” It was Hannah’s favorite pasta.
    “Salmon, with tricolor salad,” was Jessie’s