Death Runs in the Family Read Free Page A

caretaker of the town drunk.
    “And she must have had a hollow leg,” I went on, “or me a hollow head, because at last count, four shooters and three margaritas passed her lips and consequently mine before she uttered the magic words, ‘Bruce, South Dakota,’ and slid under the table.”
    Out came another feeble laugh. This one sounded like the sucking noise made by a water buffalo’s leg when he pulls it out of a mud hole.
    “You see?”
    She nodded sagely. “You like to drink.”
    “No, no! Last night’s bout was business. I had to get this 3D program, this little computer gizmo back, understand? It was vital to my client.”
    “Is it like the 3D they do in the movies, like in the cartoons and stuff?”
    She was finally with me. “Yes! But this 3D is on a computer. And being worth about fifteen mil, the client wanted it back pronto .”
    Kelli inhaled a sharp breath at the amount. Money she understood.
    “But let’s move on,” I said, feeling somewhat vindicated, even though I needed to work on my laugh. “What exactly do you want from me?”
    “I want you to find Nick.”
    I must have rolled my eyes or something because she grabbed at my hand this time. “Please, Lee. He once said you were the nicest, smartest person he ever knew.”
    I’ll kill him.
    Kelli let go of my hand and looked down at short, black fingernails. Hers, not mine. I don’t do nail polish. “Please help me. I don’t have anybody but Nick. My family disowned me after…after… Then I moved to Las Vegas, but I don’t have any friends, not real friends. None that could or would help.” She put those black fingernailed hands up to her face and started blubbering into them.
    “Did you two have a fight or words?” She shook her head. “Did he seem unhappy or preoccupied about something?” Another shake.
    “He has a cell, doesn’t he?” She nodded but continued to blubber. “What happens when you call it?”
    A muffled voice spoke through her fingers. “Nothing, it goes into voice mail. I must have left fifty messages, and he’s never called back.”
    “What about friends? Has he been in contact with any?” She gave her head another sad shake. “Credit cards? Have any been used during the time he’s been gone?”
    “The only one not maxed out is in the bureau drawer. I got the statement yesterday, and there aren’t any new charges. None of his clothes are missing, and he didn’t take the car. I’ve got it; it’s right outside. But he’s got to be hiding somewhere.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    She shrunk into herself. “Oh, maybe he isn’t. Maybe he’s…” She broke off and suddenly leaned into me with such force, I spilled half my coffee in my lap. “I’ve been reading the papers looking for unclaimed dead bodies. I even called the morgue once.”
    “Oh, I’m sure he’s not dead.” Only the good die young, sweetie .
    I set the dripping cup down on the table and reached for several paper napkins to blot up the mess.
    “And I’ve been calling the hospitals every day, too.” She went back to blubbering. I patted one of her shoulders with a limp, coffee-drenched hand, while the other dabbed at my wet, stained robe.
    “Maybe he rented a car, took a bus or a plane. There are other ways of getting out of town.”
    “No, he’s around. I can feel.” She wiped her eyes with her soggy, make-up stained napkin. I gave her a fresh one, noting to buy more at the rate we were going through them. She blew her nose into it and handed it back to me.
    Gee, thanks.
    Then Kelli looked up at me and smiled. It was a rather glorious, angelic smile and made you want to like her. Oh, God. I did like her.
    I’m doomed.
    “Sometimes I think he’s watching me.” She reflected. “Or somebody’s watching me.” She actually started to swoon at this point. I thought she was going to pass out and grabbed to steady her.
    “When was the last time you slept? Or ate?” She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head in a