Drip Dead Read Online Free Page A

was still out on his porch, and I resisted the impulse to give him a one-fingered salute.
    The Escalade roared to life, and I pulled away from the curb. I was used to driving my thirty-year-old Beetle and, sitting up high in the Escalade, I felt as though I were piloting a small continent. I had to admit it was a lot cushier than my Beetle. I bet the heater even worked.
    I managed to navigate the huge vehicle to the Immediate Care Clinic without forcing anyone off the road. I even got it into a parking space. But getting the doors open wide enough to get out without denting the neighboring cars was a struggle.
    Dr. Cox was expecting us, and the receptionist immediately showed us into an exam room.
    I wondered if Mom was ever going to say anything. She hadn’t spoken since Sheriff Mitchell had given her the news about Gregory. Mom never had trouble expressing her thoughts. Never. It was starting to creep me out.
    “Mom? I’m really sorry, Mom.”
    “You never liked him.” Her voice croaked when she spoke as though she had forgotten how to use it.
    “Not much,” I admitted. There was no reason to argue with her. She was right. “Still, he was important to you—”
    I stopped as Dr. Cox came into the room.
    “Hello,” he said. He glanced my way before focusing on my mom. “How are you doing, Mrs. Neverall?” He walked over and took her hand, gently turning it over and pressing his fingertips against her wrist.
    “I, well, I don’t know,” she admitted slowly.
    “Sheriff Mitchell told me what happened,” he reassured her. “I’m very sorry.” He held a stethoscope to her chest. “Deep breath.”
    She sucked in air, her breath catching in a sudden hiccup that seemed to break something loose in her chest. She held the breath for a moment as Dr. Cox moved the stethoscope, but when he said, “Breathe out,” what escaped was a ragged sob.
    The doctor caught her as she crumpled forward, tears running down her face. He looked at me over her head. I moved closer and Dr. Cox transferred Mom into my arms. I patted her back, not knowing what else to do.
    We stayed that way for a couple minutes, until Mom drew a deep breath and shook herself free of my embrace.
    “My apologies, Doctor,” she said stiffly. She took the tissue the doctor offered and wiped delicately at her eyes. “Please forgive my outburst.”
    “Certainly, Sandra. It’s a perfectly normal reaction.” He placed the stethoscope back against her chest. “Okay. Breathe in.”
    Dr. Cox spent several minutes with Mom, examining her and talking to her. By the time he was through, my mother was once again her usual controlled—and controlling—self.
    “May I have my keys, please?” she asked as we left the Immediate Care Clinic. She held out her freshly manicured hand. Plum Crazy. It was a perfect color for my mother—it described exactly how she made me feel.
    I turned over the keys and climbed into the passenger’s seat of the Escalade. I wasn’t sure she should be driving, but I wasn’t anxious to get behind the wheel of that beast again. And my car was at her house.
    When we pulled up in front of her house, the ambulance was gone but the sheriff was still there. At least it would save me a phone call. His car was parked where Mom had found us, and several other cars were parked nearby. Yellow crime-scene tape was stretched across the gate, where a deputy stood guard with a clipboard.
    As we climbed from the car, I saw the deputy writing notes. Another deputy came out of the backyard and stopped to sign the clipboard.
    Before we could reach the door to the house, Sheriff Mitchell appeared from the backyard and intercepted us on the front lawn.
    “You can’t go in there, ladies.”
    “I most certainly can, Sheriff. This is my house.” Yep, Mom was definitely back to her usual self.
    “This is a crime scene, Mrs. Neverall. No one is allowed in until we have finished our investigation.”
    Color drained from Mom’s face, and for an instant