Death Under Glass Read Free Page B

either—was because its dissolution had divided his family.
    She peeked at me from the corner of her eye, then shrank a little in the driver’s seat, looking abashed. “I know. I know. You don’t have to say it.”
    I almost laughed, my belly clenching in discomfort at the awkwardness of it all. “I can’t say anything. I don’t know what
to
say.” Or think. All I seemed capable of doing was picturing the special joy of dinner with Russ’s family. Holidays were undoubtedly the stuff of Tim Burton’s nightmares.
    I kept silent for the rest of the ride, leaving Carrie the opportunity to share more surprises with me or not. Uncharacteristically, she chose not, so that in the relative quiet of the car, my thoughts bounced from those of Russ’s family to my own. My mother had been home from her honeymoon with husband number five for nearly a month and I’d yet to visit them. I really had nothing against new husband Ben, the latest in a line of men Mom married in a peculiar effort to fill the shoes of my late father—Mom’s “one true love.” Since Dad had passed before I turned two, I had no true memory of him, only memories I created around the stories my mother told, so I never saw the subsequent husbands as trying to fill my father’s shoes. To me they were just a series of guys I got accustomed to thinking of as stepdad du jour before my mother moved on.
    To the best of my knowledge, though, none of my family members had ever felt opposed enough to any of my mom’shusbands to pay for a divorce. Given the way Grandy had taken to referring to my former fiancé as “that swine,” I reasoned he would happily fork over any money it took to end a bad situation. I deeply wanted to ask Carrie for more details about her former in-laws but I risked only one more inquiry into whether she would prefer I drove, before maintaining silence until, finally, after a twenty-five minute ride, we turned onto the town of Newbridge’s main commercial road. Small businesses with gold-lettered windows and retail shops with colorful awnings edged the road on either side, its full length blocked by a police cruiser.
    Unable to proceed any farther by car, Carrie steered onto a side street. Little more than a wide alley divided the commercial strip from residential property. Single family homes with narrow lawns and empty driveways flanked the street where Carrie eased the car to a stop alongside the curb. As calm and cool as she was pretending to be, her choice of vacant spot betrayed the true tumult within. I climbed out of the vehicle after her, calling over the roof of the car, “Are you sure you want to leave this here?”
    She stutter-stepped to a stop. “Why? Is there a sign? Can we not park?”
    I pointed upward, toward the unimpeded view of a wide blue sky. “There’s no shade.”
    Carrie moved to reopen the car then shook her head. “It’ll be fine,” she said. “Let’s just go.”
    Slinging my purse strap over my shoulder, I rounded the car and joined Carrie in the middle of the side street,quiet save the occasional
woof
of a dog and the shouts of a couple of boys on bicycles.
    We walked diagonally across the road to the corner from which we could once again see the squad car blocking access. Clusters of people stood along the sidewalk, talking quietly, shaking their heads. I followed the angle of their quick glances. Eyes on the scene beyond the squad car, I walked full stride into a gutter puddle.
    I huffed out a sigh. It was going to be one of those days.
    Water swept over my foot and splashed against my ankles. I had just enough sense to keep my other foot dry, and hopped over the remainder of the puddle to join Carrie on the sidewalk.
    Side by side, we walked toward the center of the area cordoned off by police with a combination of caution tape, vehicles, and cruisers. My footsteps squeaked from the water