Deadly Gamble: The First Charlie Parker Mystery Read Free

storage room. The only bathroom is also up there,
and has to serve both boys and girls. How did these
Victorian families manage?
    I set my briefcase on the kitchen table,
leaving the door open for Rusty while I made coffee. I hoped Sally
would bring doughnuts. We leave that part informal. Whoever has a
craving that day will usually show up with treats. Rusty trotted
in, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. I closed the door
behind him and we headed toward the front, leaving the coffee to
hiss and sputter to completion. The answering machine on Sally's
desk showed no messages. I unlocked the front door and proceeded
upstairs with my rust-colored shadow close behind.
    My office is my second home. As such, I like
it comfortable. I've chosen good wood furniture, hanging ferns in
the bay window, and soft pastels for the upholstery and art.
    I had no sooner parked my butt in the chair
than I heard the front door. We have a ding-dong type bell rigged
to ring upstairs for those times when Sally isn't on duty. Like
now. I pulled myself back up, trying to remember if we had any
appointments on the book. I didn't think so. It's usually pretty
quiet when Ron isn't here. Maybe a salesperson or a delivery. Given
a choice, I would opt for the latter.
    Stacy North waited in the foyer. Today she
wore no makeup and her designer jogging suit looked slept in. Her
feathery blond hair hung limp. Her lips looked thin without
lipstick, her face grayish. I motioned her upstairs, watching her
feet drag upward at each step. I offered coffee. She nodded. I
trotted back down the stairs and came back with two mugs. The
social formalities accomplished, I looked at her inquisitively. She
handed over the morning paper tentatively before taking a seat on
the sofa. The paper was folded so that page A-4 faced me. A
captioned photo told me I was staring into the face of Gary
Detweiller. The headline told me he'd been killed in a shooting. I
read the rest of the article while Stacy perched on the edge of the
couch. She was motionless except to raise the coffee mug to her
lips occasionally.
    Detweiller had been sitting in his car in his
own driveway when an unknown assailant shot him at almost
point-blank range, the article said. I pictured the heavily
overgrown shrubs that bordered the drive. The victim was survived
by his wife, Jean, and son, Joshua. No leads had yet been found in
the case. I laid the paper on my desk and looked up at Stacy.
    "This is the guy of our former
discussion?"
    She nodded tiredly.
    "And?"
    No response.
    "Stacy, I assume you didn't just come by to
share this with me," I said, holding the newspaper up. "What do you
want?" I had a feeling I knew the answer, and I wasn't going to
like it.
    "I need help again, Charlie." Her voice came
out thickly.
    "Stacy, I told you, I'm not an investigator.
Besides, aren't the police handling this?"
    Her blue eyes widened slightly. "That's what
I'm worried about." She reached for her bag. "Do you mind if I
smoke?"
    "I'd rather you didn't." It probably came out
sounding harsh, but dammit, I have to live in this office after she
leaves. "Stacy, you were never a smoker."
    A trembling hand covered her mouth. "I know,
Charlie. I only do it now and then."
    "Stacy, what's really the problem here? Are
you worried that the police will dig up your connection with
Detweiller?"
    "Of course I am!" She stood up and paced to
the opposite end of the room. "Charlie, do you have any idea what
Brad will do if he finds out about this?"
    Truthfully, I didn't. But I also wondered
aloud why she hadn't worried about this before getting seduced into
the situation.
    "I don't know," she said, her voice hopeless.
She dumped herself back onto my couch, and rubbed at her temples
with both index fingers. "It was stupid. I can see that now. I
guess I just fell for the ... uh ... positive attention."
    "I'm not sure what to tell you." I wanted to
tell her about paying the consequences for our actions, but somehow
I got the feeling she