Murder Follows Money Read Free

suppressed a smile at the accuracy of that description. “And Kim’s hiding behind you.” He reached around and pulled a young woman forward. She was slight as a gazelle, with shy, startled eyes beneath a mop of red hair. She gave me a fleeting smile, but said nothing. “That’s us,” Don finished, lapsing into silence.
    I am not particularly outgoing, but I found myself wanting to set Kim at ease.
    “I’m Liz.” I smiled at her. “Have you all been on the road long?”
    She glanced behind her. Naomi was bent protectively over Hannah Couch; Don appeared to be in his own world as he slouched along.
    “It seems like forever,” the young woman said, “but this is only our second stop. And the first one didn’t count, according to Naomi.”
    “Are you the food stylist?” I asked hopefully.
    “Yes.” Kim stared at her feet on the escalator. “Although we understood that you would do the shopping and help prep the food.”
    “Yeah, well, I will, if I can figure out how to do it.”
    Kim caught her breath. “Oh, dear.” She looked at the two of us again. “Naomi will be angry. She specifically asked for an escort experienced with food preparation.”
    “I’ll do my best.” I shrugged, trying to throw off the feeling of impending doom—my doom. This job paid better than anything I’d ever done before, if I didn’t get fired on the first day. But there were other jobs, and firing might be merciful. I was just sorry for Judi Kershay if things didn’t work out. “Is Naomi the dragon woman?”
    Kim was really striking when she smiled. I wondered why the lanky photographer wasn’t paying more attention to her.
    “That’s Naomi. She’s been with Hannah since they first opened a restaurant together—’Beaned in Boston.’ It’s famous. Have you heard of it?”
    “Not really. Never been to the East Coast.” Or much of anywhere, save for my hometown of Denver, a place I thought of as overfull of my less-than-happy family and a host of unpleasant memories. I wouldn’t return there anytime soon, and had no plans to go anywhere else, or money to get there. Perhaps it was the airport ambiance, but wanderlust stirred in my soul, and it took the forcible reminder of my depleted bank account to tamp it down.
    Kim’s smile faded. “That’s where I worked. My uncle Tony managed it.”
    “A family thing, was it?”
    “Yes, actually. Naomi is my aunt, his sister. Uncle Tony had a heart attack and died last month. I miss him.” Kim sighed. “We had such fun at the restaurant. It’s a take-out place, you know—lots of really neat dishes and people take them home to heat up. I loved assembling the meals for people. I could just see them putting the food on nice plates, maybe lighting candles because they had time to fix up a little instead of cooking. And Uncle Tony and the other staff there were all so nice.” She sighed again.
    “I’m sorry about your uncle.”
    “Hmm?” Kim came back from her daydream. “It’s really because of him that I’m here. Aunt Naomi came in to check things out a couple of days before Uncle Tony’s attack, and told him they had just learned their food stylist took another job. She was really steamed, and she’s nasty when she’s mad. Uncle Tony made some comment like, ‘Oh, Kim could do as good a job as that girl did.’ We all laughed, but after his death, Naomi just—snapped me up.
    “Like a crocodile,” I suggested.
    Kim’s smile was perfunctory. “It’s been awful. I didn’t know anything to begin with. I still don’t know much. I think she only keeps me around because she loves to complain and I always do something to complain about.”
    “Well, tell me what you want me to do and I’ll make a few mistakes. She can complain at me for a while.”
    We reached the baggage-claim area. The bags for Hannah’s flight hadn’t come up yet. I turned to watch Hannah and Naomi approach. “Why don’t I take you out to the limo?” I suggested to them. “Then I