Murder as a Second Language Read Free

phone because of the language barrier.”
    â€œAll of their students speak some English, as I told them. However, if they want to come here this afternoon, Keiko can help them make the calls and set up their schedules. I have another class in a few minutes. Nice to meet you, Ms. Malloy.” She went into a corner office and closed the door. I hoped her residual scars from the training session had not driven her to drink in the middle of the morning.
    Two people emerged from an office beyond the reception desk. The man wore a dark suit, a red tie, and an annoyed expression. His hairline was beginning to recede, and his features seemed small on his tanned face. The woman had short blond hair, blue eyes, and deft makeup. She was wearing a tailored skirt and jacket and high heels, and she carried a briefcase. “Gregory,” she said as though speaking to a wayward child, “we’re still waiting for the receipts from your trip to D.C. two months ago. Are you going to claim your dog ate them? If so, you’d better have that dog at the next meeting.”
    â€œThey’re in my office somewhere,” he said. “Why don’t you ask Rick where they are? He’s been coming by after work to paw through the files. It’s a friggin’ miracle I can find my desk, much less the manila envelope with the receipts. You’ve got the credit card statement. I don’t see why you want a bunch of bits of paper.”
    â€œWillie wants them, not me,” she said.
    The man now identified as Gregory took her elbow and tried to steer her toward the front door. “You can’t have a meeting until you have enough board members present to make a quorum. That won’t be until August, will it? I’ll find the receipts before then—okay?” There was a hint of mockery in his voice.
    The woman stopped and pulled herself free. “I suppose so. I need to have a word with Keiko before I leave.” She swept past me and into the office, muttering under her breath.
    Gregory glanced at me before he returned to what I presumed was his office. I stood there for a moment, feeling as inconsequential as I did at the Book Depot. It might be the time for the third stab at a soufflé, I finally decided and headed for the door. Purportedly, it was the charm.
    Before I could get into my car, the blond woman came outside and said, “Claire Malloy?” When I nodded, she held out her hand and said, “I’m delighted to meet you. I’ve read all about your involvement with the local police. Tell me, what’s it like to confront a murderer?”
    â€œUnpleasant,” I replied. “And you are…?”
    â€œSonya Emerson. I’m on the board of the FLC—the Farberville Literacy Council. In my spare time, I work for Sell-Mart in the corporate office in the Human Resources Department. What’s more fun than a sixty-hour workweek?”
    I wondered if Mattel had released MBA Barbie in the last few years. “It’s nice to meet you, Sonya. I came by to apply to be a tutor. It appears that I’ll have to wait for the next training session.” I opened my car door, but the subtlety escaped her.
    â€œKeiko mentioned it. She’d love to make an exception in your case, but our executive director is adamant about sticking to our policy. We have to be certain that our tutors are committed. Some of them sign up, but then lose interest and abandon their students.” She frowned faintly and then brightened. “We’d love to have you volunteer in some other capacity. You’re so well-known and respected in Farberville. Having you involved in the FLC would enhance our reputation in the community, as well as in the state organization. You’re so intelligent and articulate.”
    I enjoy flattery, but she was shoveling it on. “If you have a bake sale, let me know and I’ll whip up a batch of profiteroles au chocolat. ” I waved as I