Swan Song Read Online Free Page A

fine for Duane, so it’s all good.”
    A shriek from the lobby told us that Duane was tormenting Becky, as usual, by waving the Have-A-Heart trap containing the night’s catch at Becky on his way to release the mouse or squirrel or whatever it was this time into the back yard of the Law Barn. Rodents were a fact of life in such an old building, and my partners and I had made peace with them, as had May. Wildlife was a particular passion of hers, as it happened, but so far Becky had resisted all of our efforts to desensitize her. Maybe helping to feed the ducks and geese would improve that, I mused.
    “What does your day look like?” I asked May as we moved toward our respective offices, Romantic Nights up one flight and Mack Realty down six steps, sipping our coffee.
    She made a face. “I had planned to do a little writing this afternoon and let Isabelle hold the fort upstairs, but I’ve decided to go to the convention luncheon. Lizzie’s giving the keynote speech, as you heard from her last night, and I confess, she really piqued my curiosity. It was probably the alcohol talking, but I’m interested to hear what she really does say when the time comes. Then there’s the awards dinner to get through tomorrow night.” She sighed heavily.
    “You don’t sound too thrilled about being up for the Mystery of the Year Award.”
    “It doesn’t mean a whole heck of a lot,” May confided. “It’s one of those things that the convention sponsors dream up to make writers more interested in spending a fortune to participate in their organizations and attend their annual gatherings. They pick a few titles and appoint a committee to judge which one is the best. Sometimes they even let members vote. It encourages a few sales among Mysteries USA members; but in the end, the award is just an ego boost to the nominees and winners. The reading public never heard of it, and it certainly doesn’t motivate anyone outside the association to buy. Still, one does one’s duty and shows up for the presentation—unless one can think up a suitably airtight excuse, of course. That was tough to do this year, what with the convention being right down the road in Hartford.” She took another sip of coffee. “How about you? Are you and Margo able to keep things going with Strutter on vacation?”
    I smiled, thinking of our Jamaican partner visiting family on the big island with her husband and six-year-old daughter. “It’s only for ten days, and boy, does Strutter deserve it. She and J.D. no sooner got Charlie moved into his dorm than he was back for Thanksgiving with a truckload of laundry. Between the holidays and keeping Olivia on an even keel at school and her job here, it’s amazing that Strutter’s even sane some weeks, but she manages to keep it together somehow. I hope she’s lying under a palm tree drinking fruity drinks with little umbrellas in them. We’ll try not to let the place burn down until she gets back.”
    “Where’s Margo, by the way?”
    “Prepping a house on Ridge Road for a big open house tomorrow. Now that Christmas and New Year’s are behind us, buyers are starting to show some interest in our new listings. Are you driving yourself back to the Hilton? Traffic will be miserable in the middle of the day, not to mention finding a place to park.”
    “Luckily, Duane thought of that, resourceful soul that he is. He’s going to drive me into the city and get a burger somewhere until it’s time to pick me up again. Unless Lizzie starts a real ruckus, it shouldn’t be more than an hour and a half or so.” She grinned and waggled her fingers at me as she started up the stairs, and I headed down the half-flight of stairs to the Mack Realty office. “Hey, why don’t you come with me as my guest, pretty please?” she threw over her shoulder. “I won’t be quite as vulnerable to the earnest amateurs if I have someone with me, and it should be a lot more fun than that silly reception last night.”
    Fun,