Look Both Ways Read Free

leaped and made a perfect soft landing on top of it.
    â€œBig cat,” said Bob.
    â€œNice,” said the other mover. They turned and headed down the stairs, O’Ryan and I tagging along behind. I slipped Bob a generous tip, while O’Ryan sniffed at the folded quilt, then watched as the men headed back to the truck.
    Aunt Ibby appeared in the bedroom doorway. “It’s even more beautiful than I remembered. The lines are so classic, and the raised panels between the drawers are so delicately carved. They look like tiny flowers, don’t they?”
    â€œThey do,” I agreed. “It looks perfect up there, and nobody would ever guess there are hiding places all over it. Shea Tolliver said she thought the person she bought it from didn’t even know they were there.”
    â€œThey’re well hidden,” she said. “If Grandmother Forbes hadn’t shown them to you when you were a little girl, you might never have found them, either.”
    â€œShea put the directions in the top drawer, in case I forget.”
    â€œThat was thoughtful,” she said. “Pete will get a kick out of the secret spaces.”
    â€œI know. And I promised to cook him dinner, too.”
    â€œYou don’t have dishes yet,” she said. “Maybe you should have looked for some when you bought the nice mugs.”
    â€œYou’re right.” I looked at my watch. “It’s not too late. I think I’ll go do a little china shopping.”
    â€œGood idea.”
    â€œOh, Aunt Ibby, remind me when I get back to ask you about a murder that happened while I was in Florida.”
    â€œA murder? What murder?”
    â€œSomebody named Trent. Shea mentioned it. I’ll tell you what she said later.”
    It occurred to me as I backed out of the driveway that I’d much rather have vintage dishes than new ones. Maybe Shea Tolliver would have some nice old Fiestaware. Within minutes I was once again headed for Bridge Street. I parked the Corvette in the same space I’d used earlier, and headed for the purple door. I stepped aside quickly when the door burst open and a tall blond man rushed past, jostling my arm.
    â€œWatch where you’re going!” I exclaimed, my redhead’s temper flaring for a moment.
    â€œSorry,” he said and broke into a run.
    The bell over the door tinkled a welcome as I stepped inside.
    â€œShea? You here?” I called.
    No reply, but I saw her.
    At least, I saw her feet. Sensibly shod toes pointing up, they stuck out from behind the counter. I had a very bad feeling as I slowly rounded the corner. Sightless eyes stared upward, and a trickle of blood issued from her mouth.
    It was Shea Tolliver, all right, and I didn’t need to touch her to know that she was dead.

CHAPTER 2
    I backed away, thoughts jumbled. Call 911.
    Yes. Calling 911 was what people did in a case like this. With my eyes still focused on Shea’s feet, I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone.
    Don’t touch anything.
    Right. That’s important. I punched in the numbers.
    A calm, unemotional voice answered. “What is your emergency?”
    I glanced around, avoiding looking at those still feet. The cash register drawer stood open. It looked empty. “Emergency,” I repeated, hardly recognizing my own voice. “I found a dead woman. On the floor.”
    â€œWhat’s your location please?”
    Location? I don’t know the address.
    â€œI’m . . . I’m on Bridge Street. It’s an antique shop. Tolliver’s Antiques and Uniques. There’s a purple door. The owner, Shea Tolliver, she’s the one who’s dead. On the floor.”
    â€œAre you sure she’s dead? Did you check?”
    â€œNo. I didn’t touch anything. She . . . she looks dead.”
    â€œAll right. Help is on the way. What’s your name?”
    â€œLee Barrett. I’m a . . . customer.”
    â€œAll right, Ms.