Killer Cousins Read Free

chair at her table. Lifted the corners of her lips. Pressed her arms against her sides. “This okay?”
    “That smile’s not real. What’s the problem?”
    She opened her mouth. Rap-rap-rap sounded from the front door, and two sets of quick footsteps approached.
    A sliver of a woman darted in. “The cops came and questioned me.” Her voice was the one I’d heard booming over the phone earlier. I had imagined her to be a larger person. A strong gust could blow her away. She stopped, a mop-headed girl of about three at her side. “Oh, you have company. I thought everybody left,” the young woman said.
    “The investigators are outside,” Stevie replied. She gave the child a smile that lit even her eyes. “Cherish, come give Aunt Stevie a big hug.” Stevie wasn’t really the child’s aunt.
    Cherish crossed her arms. “I wanted to keep watching Scooby-Doo .”
    “You can watch it in my room.” Stevie ran with the child toward the bedrooms and let loose her annoying cackle. The girl’s mom grinned at me and blew a pink bubble with her gum. Cartoon characters screamed. Stevie returned. “That’s my favorite cousin, Cealie Gunther,” she said.
    The bubble backed into the woman’s mouth. “Stevie told me a bunch of stuff about you. I live next door. I’m April McGee.”
    Her comment surprised me. Stevie and I had had very little contact in years and weren’t ever close. “Nice to meet you,” I said.
    “How did that man die?” April asked Stevie.
    “Maybe he just walked in my yard and had a stroke or a heart attack.”
    “You think so?” April shoved aside a section of her silky all-one-length black hair that dropped over part of her baby blue eyes.
    Stevie spread her hands. “Who knows?”
    “But why would a stranger pick your yard to come into to die?” I asked.
    “Maybe he walked by and started to feel bad. He could have wanted to use a phone to call someone.”
    April nodded. “Sounds logical.” She plopped her capri-clad seat down on a chair.
    “But,” I said, “he had a cell phone clipped to his belt.”
    “Oh.” April zipped her head around toward Stevie, who thrummed blunt fingernails on the table.
    “I can’t explain everything.” Stevie shoved up to her feet. “How can I know why a stranger chose my gate to come through when he was ready to die?”
    From the TV in her bedroom, a character called for Scooby Doo. Stevie glanced there, looking even more annoyed.
    Uneasy, I nudged the newspaper closer. Most ads in this section glared for notice. Not Cajun Delights.
    Recently, when we were near Chicago, Gil told me he’d be coming to this area to open another restaurant. I wasn’t sure when. But if he came around this town now, I’d avoid him.
    I would .
    Stevie opened the refrigerator. She grabbed a canned diet lime drink for April. Then sat, looking calmer, and sipped her coffee.
    April swallowed lime drink over the gum in her mouth. “Cops came and asked me things, mainly if I knew that dead man or saw anything strange at your place. I didn’t.” She grinned. “Cherish used the potty again all by herself.”
    Stevie laughed. My interest drifted. I’d fought the attraction to Gil, but then a few days ago, gave in.
    But no more. I tightly cloaked myself inside my mantra: I am woman! I can do anything—alone! I needed to avoid Gil so that I could rediscover myself.
    Still, I recalled our sweet lovemaking. Satisfactory. No, much more than that. With my body spooned against Gil’s, I’d felt like I was in the most natural place in the world. And thinking about Gil comforted me more than considering what was outside or in here.
    Women’s voices swirled around me. I peered at Stevie and her neighbor, still discussing Cherish and laughing.
    I smiled as though I were invested in their stories. My imaginings drifted to a sweeter scene involving Gil and me twisted together.
    April raised a question that snagged my attention. “What if somebody came in your backyard and killed