Free A Healthy Homicide by Staci McLaughlin Page A

back and drummed his fingers on his coffee cup, the sound inaudible over the noise from the car still idling at the curb.
    I expected Patricia to chastise Stan for interrupting her, but she gave him a little smile. “You’re right. I shouldn’t say bad things about Carla’s sister.” She addressed me. “Carla had such high expectations for Erin, and I’m afraid it will be all for nothing now that Carla’s gone.”
    Erin came back out the door and frowned when she saw us still standing there. She clutched a small bag in her hand, but there was no way to tell what was inside through the opaque plastic. She pulled the spa door shut and locked it.
    “I hope you’ll remember how Carla felt about Ricky,” Patricia said as Erin walked past.
    Erin paused in midstride before continuing on. At the curb she turned back. “He’s the only one I can count on now.” With that, she yanked open the car door and slid onto the passenger seat, slamming the door behind her. The engine revved, and the car roared away from the curb.
    I felt like I’d been caught in the middle of an after-school special in which the young, naive girl was drawn to the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks, and her family was trying to keep the two lovers apart. I half expected a cheesy sound track to start playing over an invisible sound system.
    Patricia handed her coffee cup to Stan and grabbed the stack of remaining flyers. “I hope those two don’t show up at my house tomorrow night. I put a lot of effort into planning this memorial, and I won’t have it ruined by any of their shenanigans.” She retrieved her tape dispenser, head held high. “Let’s go, Stan.”
    “Yes, dear,” he replied, but she’d already walked away. He trailed after her, carrying her coffee, along with his own.
    I got back in my car and drove home. I couldn’t wait to change out of my grungy work clothes, thaw a meal in the microwave, and call Jason and tell him about what I’d witnessed. Between telling him about Carla’s married boyfriend at lunch and now this information about her niece, he might include me in the byline of one of his articles. Or take me out for a romantic dinner. Considering I’d uncovered at least two solid suspects in Carla’s murder, we might even need to order some champagne.

Chapter 9
     
    At home I parked in my designated spot next to Ashlee’s Camaro, climbed the stairs, and opened the door to a dark apartment. I stopped. Ashlee’s car was here, but where was Ashlee? At the on-site gym? Visiting a friend? I heard slurping noises coming from the direction of the couch and hit the light switch on the wall.
    Ashlee and Chip were sitting on the couch. Well, Chip was sitting on the couch. Ashlee was propped in his lap, with their limbs intertwined and their faces mashed together. The sudden burst of light must have penetrated their consciousness, because they pulled apart. Ashlee then turned and gave me a big grin, while Chip tried to wipe the lip gloss off his face.
    “Hey, sis. Home so soon?”
    “Same time as every day.” I tossed my keys on the kitchen table and slipped off my jacket. “Don’t let me interrupt anything.”
    “Naw, we gotta get going, anyway,” Chip said, still wiping his cheek. “My roommate’s having a party tonight. Hey, you wanna come?”
    I’d been to one of Chip’s roommate’s parties shortly after we’d moved to the complex, hoping to meet some of my new neighbors. The party had involved beer bongs, Ping-Pong shots, and random girls running around looking for their underwear. Thank goodness Ashlee hadn’t been one of them.
    “Maybe next time.”
    “You got it.”
    Ashlee slid off Chip’s lap, her fingers still interlaced with his. “Guess I’ll get ready.”
    Before she could walk away, Chip gave her hand a tug and pulled her back down. “Maybe we got a little more time, after all.”
    Ashlee giggled and leaned in for a kiss. I made a dash for my room, the slurping sounds following me.