If She Should Die Read Online Free
Author: Carlene Thompson
aqua eyes, straight nose bearing a smattering of freckles, above average height, and white silk knit sweater.
He turned his gaze back to Wilma. “We did meet at the regatta, ma’am,” he said in a deep, smooth voice as he held out his hand to the older woman. “The weather sure was nicer then.”
“Oh, it was beautiful! And what a fine turnout we had. I do love all those pretty boats!” Wilma sounded young and slightly flustered. Christine recalled her going on a few months ago about meeting the new deputy in town, clearly with matchmaking on her mind since she’d added excitedly that he was young, divorced, and handsome and had moved to Winston from Los Angeles, where he’d been a detective. Please don’t let her announce that I’m single, Christine thought, not without provocation. Wilma’s determination to find her a husband had embarrassed her in front of several single men. But when the deputy sheriff began to talk in a businesslike tone, her fear of humiliation vanished. He wasn’t going to give Wilma a chance for any small talk.
“I need to speak to you, Mr. Prince,” Winter said almost grimly as he looked at Ames. “I was told at your office you might be here.”
“And so I am,” Ames said casually. He seemed calm, but Christine felt a small clutch of fear caused by the discomfort in Winter’s eyes, the formality of his tone. “How may I help you, Deputy?”
“I wonder if we might speak alone.”
“I’m not under arrest for some heinous crime, am I?” Ames’s voice was strained. “You’re not trying to spare me the humiliation of arresting me in front of a crowd?”
“No, sir, certainly not. But I have some news I thought might best be delivered to you in private.”
This was something about Dara, Christine thought with a dark, certain dread as she saw color seep from Ames’s face. He sensed it concerned Dara, too, and he was afraid to hear the news alone, although he would never admit it.
“I have no secrets from Miss Ireland and Mrs. Archer,” Ames said stiffly. He completely ignored Ginger, who’d stopped polishing and watched with huge eyes. “Please don’t drag this out any longer.”
Michael Winter’s slender face tightened. His dark eyes gazed unflinchingly into Ames’s for a moment and Christine saw his right hand curl into a fist, then relax. He swallowed and said gently, “Mr. Prince, about an hour ago an object washed up on the riverbank about half a mile south of town. It was tightly wrapped in plastic.” He paused and Wilma’s breath drew in sharply. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t present when it was retrieved and therefore couldn’t stop some of the local men from unwrapping it—”
“Probably a cow or a dog or a goat or a . . .” Wilma interrupted before her voice trailed off and she looked apprehensively at Ames, who seemed frozen, not even blinking.
“It’s not an animal, ma’am,” Deputy Winter said gently. “It appears to be an adult female.”
“Oh!” Wilma exclaimed. Michael Winter did not look at her. His gaze remained fixed on Ames, who swayed almost imperceptibly.
“The body has been in the water for a while,” Michael Winter went on softly. “Maybe years. There’s a lot of decomposition in spite of the heavy plastic wrapping. However, Mr. Prince, I regret to say we believe it might be the remains of your daughter, Dara.”
CHAPTER 2
1
Nearly ten seconds ticked by while Wilma Archer went rigid and Ginger gasped. Christine felt an odd plunging sensation, as if all her blood were draining to her feet, but Ames Prince merely stared at the deputy with a small detached smile. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier, Deputy Winter. I appreciate your coming to tell me this personally, but that unfortunate person can’t be my daughter. I just got a letter from her last week. She’s in Arizona. Phoenix, to be exact.”
The letters, Christine thought in despair. They’d been coming three or four times a year since a month after
He turned his gaze back to Wilma. “We did meet at the regatta, ma’am,” he said in a deep, smooth voice as he held out his hand to the older woman. “The weather sure was nicer then.”
“Oh, it was beautiful! And what a fine turnout we had. I do love all those pretty boats!” Wilma sounded young and slightly flustered. Christine recalled her going on a few months ago about meeting the new deputy in town, clearly with matchmaking on her mind since she’d added excitedly that he was young, divorced, and handsome and had moved to Winston from Los Angeles, where he’d been a detective. Please don’t let her announce that I’m single, Christine thought, not without provocation. Wilma’s determination to find her a husband had embarrassed her in front of several single men. But when the deputy sheriff began to talk in a businesslike tone, her fear of humiliation vanished. He wasn’t going to give Wilma a chance for any small talk.
“I need to speak to you, Mr. Prince,” Winter said almost grimly as he looked at Ames. “I was told at your office you might be here.”
“And so I am,” Ames said casually. He seemed calm, but Christine felt a small clutch of fear caused by the discomfort in Winter’s eyes, the formality of his tone. “How may I help you, Deputy?”
“I wonder if we might speak alone.”
“I’m not under arrest for some heinous crime, am I?” Ames’s voice was strained. “You’re not trying to spare me the humiliation of arresting me in front of a crowd?”
“No, sir, certainly not. But I have some news I thought might best be delivered to you in private.”
This was something about Dara, Christine thought with a dark, certain dread as she saw color seep from Ames’s face. He sensed it concerned Dara, too, and he was afraid to hear the news alone, although he would never admit it.
“I have no secrets from Miss Ireland and Mrs. Archer,” Ames said stiffly. He completely ignored Ginger, who’d stopped polishing and watched with huge eyes. “Please don’t drag this out any longer.”
Michael Winter’s slender face tightened. His dark eyes gazed unflinchingly into Ames’s for a moment and Christine saw his right hand curl into a fist, then relax. He swallowed and said gently, “Mr. Prince, about an hour ago an object washed up on the riverbank about half a mile south of town. It was tightly wrapped in plastic.” He paused and Wilma’s breath drew in sharply. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t present when it was retrieved and therefore couldn’t stop some of the local men from unwrapping it—”
“Probably a cow or a dog or a goat or a . . .” Wilma interrupted before her voice trailed off and she looked apprehensively at Ames, who seemed frozen, not even blinking.
“It’s not an animal, ma’am,” Deputy Winter said gently. “It appears to be an adult female.”
“Oh!” Wilma exclaimed. Michael Winter did not look at her. His gaze remained fixed on Ames, who swayed almost imperceptibly.
“The body has been in the water for a while,” Michael Winter went on softly. “Maybe years. There’s a lot of decomposition in spite of the heavy plastic wrapping. However, Mr. Prince, I regret to say we believe it might be the remains of your daughter, Dara.”
CHAPTER 2
1
Nearly ten seconds ticked by while Wilma Archer went rigid and Ginger gasped. Christine felt an odd plunging sensation, as if all her blood were draining to her feet, but Ames Prince merely stared at the deputy with a small detached smile. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier, Deputy Winter. I appreciate your coming to tell me this personally, but that unfortunate person can’t be my daughter. I just got a letter from her last week. She’s in Arizona. Phoenix, to be exact.”
The letters, Christine thought in despair. They’d been coming three or four times a year since a month after
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