Lowcountry Bombshell (A Liz Talbot Mystery) Read Online Free Page A

hard liquor, either.”
    “No, no…” Of all the stupid things for me to say. Of course she’d be sensitive to drug use. Marilyn had died of an overdose. “What I meant to say is there are three questions I always ask new clients. It’s just a formality, really. Nothing personal.”
    She lowered her hand. “Okay.”
    “So—no liquor, no drugs, got it.” I took a deep breath and leaned closer to Calista, taking her hand. “Do you own any firearms?”
    “Yes, actually, I have a pearl-handled revolver.” She leaned in towards me. “For protection.”
    I nodded. “Good to know. And… now remember, this is a routine question which I always ask, right?”
    “Sure,” she said. She looked at me with such complete, child-like trust, I had to wonder if she trusted everyone she met so easily.
    I was now holding both her hands in mine, and our faces were maybe a foot apart. “Have you ever been treated for mental illness?”
    “Several times,” she said. “But not with much success.” She smiled this little enigmatic smile that left me wondering if she was joking or not. It gave me pause.
    But I was fascinated by this woman’s story. And, it’s like Colleen said, my dance card wasn’t full just then. I’d wrapped up the latest in a swarm of cases from new clients in old Charleston the day before. “I’ll need to copy a photo ID.” I patted her hand. “I’ll get the contract.”
    TWO

    I closed the front door behind Calista, slid to a window, and peered through the slats in the plantation shutter while Colleen watched through the window on the opposite side of the door. Calista walked down the wide steps to the driveway. She climbed into what must have been Joe’s old Cadillac. It was a cherry-red convertible, the kind with the big fins, meticulously restored. Apparently, Calista had been unable to part with it. The blonde made quite a picture in the vintage car. We watched as she looped around the wide circle, then headed down the long, palm-tree-lined drive.
    Out of habit, I checked the tag: 50CSOUL. I made a mental note to ask her what that meant. I had a lot more questions for Calista, but I needed to gather my thoughts and make a list. We’d made another appointment for Friday morning after she’d given me my standard retainer of five thousand dollars.
    “Did she really move in a few weeks ago?” I asked.
    “Yep.”
    “Damnation. I haven’t even taken her a casserole yet.” I pulled back from the window and raised my left eyebrow at Colleen. “What do you know about this?”
    She faded out of the foyer and reappeared perched on the railing at the top of the stairs. Since she’d died, Colleen favored sundresses. The one she wore today was green with little white flowers. She slid down the banister and dismounted gracefully onto the dark hardwood floor.
    “Would you stop fooling around?” I asked.
    “I don’t know anything you don’t. And I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with this one.” She drifted into the office.
    “Then why exactly are you here?” I followed her. Colleen had dropped by only twice since we’d finished work on the case involving Gram’s death and a scheme to build a high-dollar resort on our pristine island home. Before that, I hadn’t laid eyes on her since the day we’d buried her.
    Colleen flashed me a facial shrug. “Nothing in the rules that says I can’t drop by for a visit. No one is threatening the island just now, so I have some free time.”
    “Whatever.” I blew wisps of hair from my face. I retrieved my pad and pen from the coffee table and sat down at my desk. “Typically, the person who wants a body dead is someone close to them. But she doesn’t seem to have anyone.”
    Colleen stretched out on the sofa and propped her head on her hands. “If she told you everything.”
    “I’ll have lunch with Blake at the Cracked Pot and talk to Moon Unit, see what she knows about our new neighbor.” Moon Unit Glendawn owned the town diner and