Drip Dead Read Online Free Page B

I was afraid she was going to shut down again. But she recovered quickly, drawing herself up straight. “Crime scene? My house? I find that hard to believe.”
    The sheriff shrugged off her objection. “Until we know how Mr. Whitlock died and what he was doing under your house, it’s a crime scene and no one is allowed in.”
    He gave me a quick glance and I thought there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. He’d dealt with my mother before and he knew it wasn’t often anyone got the upper hand with her. The gleam of humor disappeared so fast I couldn’t be sure I’d really seen it, and he resumed speaking.
    “Mrs. Neverall, do you have someplace else to stay? I really can’t let you in the house.”
    Mom shook her head in disgust. “I’ve already started moving, so I guess I can just stay at Gregory’s . . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized what she had said, and she studied the sheriff’s face. “No, I suppose that’s out, too, isn’t it?”
    The sheriff nodded. “Someplace else, maybe?”
    I’d been backed into a trap, and we all knew it. With as much grace as I could muster, I said, “She can stay with me.”
    Mom looked horrified at the prospect, but there wasn’t much she could say. It was that or stay somewhere out of town. There wasn’t a real hotel in Pine Ridge, and the local bed and breakfast certainly wasn’t up to her standards. Besides, she wasn’t about to admit to anyone in town that she didn’t have a place to stay.
    The negotiations for Mom’s move continued for several minutes. She demanded to pack her clothes, the sheriff refused. Eventually they settled on giving her ten minutes’ access to her dresser and closet, under the supervision of one of Mitchell’s deputies.
    Mom wasn’t happy with the arrangement, especially since there were no female deputies to oversee her packing, but eventually the sheriff gave her a take-it-or-leave-it choice and she capitulated.
    I didn’t wait for her to pack and follow me back to my house. Instead I climbed into the driver’s seat of the Beetle and drove as fast as I dared to my rental house.
    I only had a few minutes to prepare for Mom’s visit.
    I had to work fast.
    I had a mess of my own to tackle before Mom walked through my door.

    Water damage is one of the most expensive problems that can crop up in your home. One way to keep from being taken by surprise is to buy several small, battery-operated moisture alarms and put them in places that are likely to have small leaks that aren’t easy to see—by the water heater, behind the toilets, under the sinks, and so on. Pick them up when you clean, and replace them when the floor is dry and they’ll last for years. You’ll hear an ear-splitting alarm at the first sign of trouble and can get a plumber in before thousands of dollars’ worth of water damage has occurred.
     
    —A Plumber’s Tip from Georgiana Neverall

chapter 5

    Daisy and Buddha greeted me at the door, anxious for a treat and a walk. I told them that even Airedales took second place to Mom right now and shooed them out into the backyard.
    I threw myself into a cleaning frenzy. The house would never meet Sandra Neverall’s exacting standards of domestic achievement, but I could at least scrape off a couple layers of chaos before she arrived.
    I stripped the bed and set out clean sheets. The bathroom was, thankfully, mostly clean. I ran a sponge over the sink and counter, and yanked the used towels off the towel bar.
    By the time Mom’s Escalade pulled into the driveway, I had managed to get the bathroom fully clean, the bed remade, and the dirty dishes stowed in the dishwasher. I glanced at my watch and grinned. She had stretched her ten minutes into half an hour. The deputy charged with watching her was probably nursing a monster headache. I bet she’d packed half her wardrobe.
    As if to confirm my conclusion, Mom came up the walk pulling two roll-along suitcases, with a computer case hanging from one