Dead by Any Other Name Read Free Page B

leave their mark up and down the valley.
    Van Wyck’s cell rang and for just a split second a look of panic swept across his face. He checked the incoming number. “It’s just my wife,” he said, half to himself. “I’ll call her back later.”
    Just his wife—hmmmm.
    Then he saw another voter and slapped on a smile.

six
    George was sitting at my desk engrossed in Horse & Rider . He didn’t even look up when I walked in. What if I’d been a customer? I coughed. He shot me a glance and went right back to the magazine.
    â€œDid you sell anything?”
    â€œHorses are the most fascinating creatures on the planet,” he said.
    â€œAt least for the next two weeks.”
    â€œWere you born that cynical or is it something you acquired during the nightmare called your life?”
    â€œI can’t wait to meet him.”
    â€œOh, Janet, he’s a dream walking. Of the earth—earthy. There’s something so primitive, primordial, almost prehistoric about the work he does, you should see him with his horses, the bond, it’s mythic. He’s going to teach me to ride … as soon as I get over my terror of horses.”
    The Sawyerville horse shows ran over long weekends and the town flooded with horse owners, trainers, breeders, and grooms—when it came to the town’s economy it was like someone suddenly turned on a spigot. As for the shows themselves, I’d never been, but it was on my to-do list, right after “read War and Peace .”
    â€œI just met Senator Van Wyck out on the street. Sounds like he’s going to be the next majority leader up in Albany.”
    â€œWhen you’re in love those kinds of prosaic developments don’t really matter.”
    â€œWhat do you think of him?”
    George closed the magazine. “Actually, I think he’s pretty good. He’s a green maniac and I think he really cares about the valley. He’s rich, or his wife is, so he doesn’t need to kiss quite as much ass. I’ve been doing a little volunteering for him.”
    George was almost as passionate about his politics as he was about his men.
    â€œHey, my morning run was pretty productive. Check out this jewelry.”
    I put the box on the desk and opened it. George’s eyes grew wide. “Holy shit, Janet— score! ”
    â€œSome cool stuff, huh?”
    â€œWicked cool.”
    â€œI bought it from Natasha Wolfson, Abba said you guys heard her sing a few years ago.”
    â€œOh yeah, she was amazing . So soulful. And captivating. She was really vulnerable, a little bit sad and lost. But she poured it all into her music.”
    I filled him in on my visit with her.
    â€œMy friend Tony lives up in Phoenicia and he told me that lately she has the world’s hottest boyfriend, just like a total knockout. He sees them around town. He says she seems in kinda rough shape, though.”
    â€œLike how?”
    â€œLike high. Either too up or too down. And sort of scared.”
    â€œDo you know anything about the boyfriend?”
    â€œTony’s pretty sure he doesn’t live in Phoenicia, somewhere down-county maybe.” He picked through the jewelry box. “Oh, and look at these fabulous silver earrings! I’m going right down to the jewelers and have them turned into cufflinks for Antonio. He’ll adore them, they’re so . . . stallionesque! Oh God, I’m starting to smolder.”
    George leapt up and headed for the door.
    â€œWait a minute, you still didn’t tell me if I had any customers this morning?”
    George gave me a pitying look. “Your crass commercialism offends my soul.”
    And then he was gone.

seven
    I did have customers the rest of the day and, as I suspected, Natasha’s jewelry was popular and I sold half a dozen pieces. That night the valley was rocked by violent storms, at one point a thunderbolt crashed over the town and woke me up—Sputnik