Silver Master Read Free Page B

with very few exceptions, could be severed only by death. Getting out of a CM was a legal and financial nightmare that very few could afford.
    But the Founders had also understood the need to provide an alternative for those who were not ready to undertake the commitment of a lifelong marriage. The Marriage of Convenience was a legally recognized arrangement that had to be renewed at regular intervals. It could be terminated by either spouse at any point unless a child was born into the marriage, in which case the contract was immediately converted into a permanent Covenant Marriage.
    Families frequently encouraged their offspring to experiment with Marriages of Convenience before entering the far more stringent Covenant Marriage. Most Marriages of Convenience were, in reality, short-term affairs. Tradition afforded such arrangements an aura of respectability, however. MCs were several notches above what was often referred to as shacking up.
    There were matchmaking agencies that worked with people seeking Marriages of Convenience, but Promises, Inc., was not one of them.
    “Do you give refunds if the match proves to be a bad one?” Davis asked, gravely polite.
    This definitely sounded personal. He was challenging her for some reason.
    She went behind her desk, sat down, and folded her hands on the surface. She rezzed a bright, professional smile for him.
    “Do you get paid regardless of whether or not you solve the case?” she retorted.
    He raised dark brows a little, acknowledging the hit.
    Alice looked faintly amused. Satisfied, even a little exhilarated by her successful parry, Celinda turned back to her.
    “What is it you want from me, Detective?”
    “Mr. Oakes is pursuing an investigation on behalf of his client,” Alice said, businesslike now. “This morning, in the course of that inquiry, he came across a dead body. We in the Cadence PD have an interest in that sort of thing.”
    Celinda swallowed hard. The small sense of triumph she had just experienced evaporated in a heartbeat. Davis had discovered a dead person, and now he and the detective were sitting in her office. The situation was deteriorating rapidly.
    “I see.” A fresh wave of alarm swept over her. “Are you here because you think I knew the victim?”
    “Good question,” Alice said. “His name was Alvis Shaw. He was a longtime drug addict and small-time thief. Rez any bells?”
    “Good grief, no,” Celinda said, shocked. “I assure you I’m not acquainted with anyone who meets that description. What in the world brought you to my door?”
    Davis’s silvery eyes were as unreadable as mirrored sunglasses. “I found Shaw’s body in the alley just outside a small, low-end antique shop that specializes in cheap colonial knockoffs. The name of the place was Jackson’s Old World Finds.”
    Startled, Celinda unclasped her hands. “I was in that shop yesterday afternoon.”
    “I know,” Davis said. “The owner of the shop showed us a receipt for an object that you purchased from him.”
    “I don’t understand,” she said. “What does that have to do with Mr. Shaw’s death? The item I bought wasn’t valuable. The owner couldn’t even remember when or where he got it. He said it had probably come in with some things he picked up in an estate sale. He only charged me five dollars for it.”
    “There is a possibility that Shaw’s death is connected to the object you bought,” Davis said.
    “ What? That’s impossible.” Horrified, Celinda leaped out of her chair, seized her tote, and placed it gingerly on top of her desk. She rummaged around inside. “I’ll show you, it’s just a chunk of old red plastic. Probably a knob or handle from some Colonial-era machine. It’s pretty, but I don’t see how it could be valuable. I bought it as a toy for Araminta. She got very excited about it.”
    “Who’s Araminta?” Alice asked.
    A fluffy ball of tatty gray fur studded with two baby-blue eyes appeared from inside the tote. The