Artful Dodger (Maggie Kean Mis-Adventures) Read Online Free

sister, but it is my job to do the best I can, and I think a woman is called for in this instance.” She stopped and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Please say you’ll try it one night, something casual like dinner, and if it doesn’t work out, I promise to let the matter drop.”
    So I capitulated like the spineless excuse of a woman that I was.
    Of course, it came as no surprise that dinner was a total disaster.
    And now, watching that bony little twerp navigating his way across my lawn, I wanted to reach out and pummel his nose just like the bullies of his youth because I couldn’t stand to see his mousy little face sully the memory of a woman who lovingly badgered me every day of my life. A woman now zipped into a body bag.
    I stood up before he reached the porch. “Hello, Preston.”
    He shot a venomous glare my way and then spoke directly to Villari, who rose to stand next to me.
    “Just what the hell are you doing about my grandmother’s death? We have a murder here and the two of you are sitting on the steps gabbing like teenagers.”
    “I’m well aware of what we have here, Mr. Boyer.”
    “Then shouldn’t you be testing for fingerprints and whatever else one does in a murder case?” he retorted, “something other than wasting time with a wannabe artist?” His insolent gaze swept up and down my body like I was a piece of rotting fruit.  “My grandmother may have wasted her time with this woman,” he spat, “but I see no reason for the rest of us, especially the police, to do the same.”
    Apparently he didn’t enjoy our date any more than I did.
    “I realize this is difficult for you,” Villari began, “but hostility will get us nowhere.”
    “And exactly where do you see this little chat with Ms. Kean taking us?”
    Villari was doing a masterful job of keeping his temper in check. I glanced at his profile and, judging by the clenched jaw and protruding vein in his temple, realized he was one step away from tossing Preston in the septic tank himself.
    “Mr. Boyer, the police are doing everything possible right now,” he explained in a very calm, well-modulated voice. “Your grandmother is being taken to the medical examiner’s office, where an autopsy will be performed. In the meantime, we are scouring the grounds and interviewing neighbors for information, which is why I was talking to Ms. Kean here before you interrupted. A police investigation must seem interminably slow to the victim’s family and I apologize for that. But being methodical and thorough is a necessity.”
    “You sound like a cop speaking to a class of third graders on Career Day. My grandmother just died.  She was murdered , for God’s sake, and I want to see my tax dollars going to something other than a dozen donuts and a cup of hot coffee.”
    “Then I suggest you go back home and write the mayor, Mr. Boyer, and get the hell out of my way.”
    I didn’t think it was possible for Preston to blanch, not with that bleached-out, pasty skin of his. But sure enough, the little color he did possess simply drained from his face, leaving a chalky-white complexion that was even less attractive than before.
    “You have no right to talk to me that way,” he sputtered. “I want to speak to your captain and I want to speak to him now.”
    Villari stepped down until he was standing eye to eye with Preston. The Shaggy Mane not only topped six feet, an easy five-inch advantage, but his lean, athletic body was powerful enough to squash Preston like the annoying gnat he was, without breaking a sweat.
    “If you want to talk to my captain, look him up in the phone book. In the meantime, crawl back into that hole you emerged from until I’m ready to question you.” He leaned forward. “And trust me, Mr. Boyer, I will be questioning you very soon." Villari stared a minute longer and then looked up and over.  At me.
    “Don’t leave town, Ms. Kean. I’m sure we’ll be talking again.” He put two fingers against his brow and