Free Skeleton Letters by Laura Childs Page B

knew exactly how she felt. She didn’t much like it at all. “Is this something you really feel the need to do?” Carmela asked Marilyn. “I mean . . . she’s our friend and her murder is still unsolved . . .” She stopped, aware that everyone was suddenly focused on her.
    Tandy suddenly looked both puzzled and disappointed. “You’re bothered by this?” she asked. “Because, frankly, I thought you’d be thrilled. The fact that Marilyn’s writing a book is going to allow her access to police files.”
    â€œYou really think so?” said Carmela. She didn’t think so.
    Tandy grabbed Carmela’s hand and gave a hard squeeze. “Oh, absolutely, honey. Plus, the Times-Picayune is going to do a write-up on the fact that Marilyn’s integrating the murder into her book. Oh gosh, we thought you’d totally buy into the idea!” Tandy hesitated. “Now I feel like bringing Marilyn here was a huge boo-boo on my part.” Tandy looked ready to cry, and Marilyn just looked embarrassed.
    Carmela weighed the idea for another few moments. Maybe she had made a rush to judgment? Marilyn’s book might fan the flames and keep everyone on their toes—police, witnesses, and suspects. Plus, if Marilyn was busy bugging Babcock and the rest of the homicide department for details, wouldn’t that be a great smoke screen for her? Leave her free to conduct her own quiet investigation? Yes, it might at that.
    â€œYou know what, guys?” said Carmela. “Forget what I just said. I think I’m way guilty of overreacting.” She focused her gaze on Marilyn. “It’s just that Byrle was such a good friend to us. We’re all still a little dazed and confused.”
    â€œWe sure are,” said Tandy. She smiled at Carmela. “So you don’t mind about the book?”
    â€œNo, I don’t,” said Carmela. “And you’re right; Marilyn’s prodding away at the police might be a good thing.”
    â€œWe’d just hope the book would be done tastefully,” said Gabby, jumping in.
    â€œOh, you have my complete assurance on that,” said Marilyn. “In fact, I’d be happy to run a few chapters by you. But only if you wanted to read them,” she added hastily.
    â€œI’d love to,” said Carmela. “When they’re ready.”
    â€œThat sounds more than fair,” said Gabby, ever the peacemaker.
    â€œSo we’re good?” asked Tandy, glancing from Marilyn to Carmela.
    â€œI was way too hasty,” Carmela said again. She smiled at Marilyn. “Apologies.”
    Marilyn held up a hand. “No apology necessary. And I certainly didn’t mean to burst in on you and upset the apple cart. Really, I know you all must be absolutely heartbroken, losing a dear friend like that.”
    â€œSince we’re not busy yet,” said Gabby, “and I see Tandy brought along a pan of her famous chocolate streusel bars . . . maybe we could all enjoy one with a cup of tea?”
    â€œTea would be great,” said Carmela, exhaling.
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    â€œSo you’re really okay with Marilyn’s book?” Gabby asked, once Tandy and Marilyn had left.
    â€œI guess so,” said Carmela. “It was just a little . . . unsettling. That’s all.”
    â€œBut maybe in a good way?” asked Gabby.
    â€œMaybe,” said Carmela.
    â€œAnything that pulls attention to a murder case is probably a good thing in the long run,” said Gabby.
    â€œI suppose.” Carmela spun out a length of ribbon, grabbed a punch, and made two quick holes.
    â€œYou okay? You seem to have a lot on your mind.”
    â€œI was just thinking about Holidazzle,” said Carmela.
    â€œWhat about Holidazzle?” Gabby asked, eager to change the subject.
    â€œBaby asked me to put the Garden District house on the Holidazzle Tour.” For some reason she always referred to it as