Free The Kindness of Strangers (Skip Langdon Mystery #6) (The Skip Langdon Series) by Julie Smith Page A

and opened it.
    “Mom! The AC.”
    “We’ll talk in the morning, young lady.”
    As she left, she heard her daughter say, “Did you smell her? She’s drunk as a coot.”

Chapter Six
    SKIP RANG THE doorbell promptly at four. She had arrived early, but out of politeness waited till the hour.
    It was a long time before she heard footsteps. Finally Boo opened the door, hands grubby, in a dirty T-shirt and shorts. She’d obviously been gardening.
    “Omigod, Skip! I didn’t call you.”
    Skip said nothing, too confused to speak.
    “Omigod, come in. I spaced it. I can’t believe I spaced it.”
    Skip followed her in, but stood barely in the doorway, knowing she’d be leaving soon. Evidently, Boo couldn’t see her now.
    “Listen, I’m so sorry, but something very unfortunate’s come up. I’m afraid I’ve got a conflict.” She spread her arms, palms up, contracting her shoulders. “I promise I didn’t know this at the time we talked, I really didn’t, but my husband has taken a job with Errol Jacomine’s campaign. I don’t know what you’re planning to do”—she put up a hand—”Don’t tell me. Please. You see what I mean? We just can’t talk freely right now. So I’m afraid I really can’t see you anymore, but I’ll be glad to recommend someone I think you’ll like. I’m really sorry about this.”
    Oh, no. Not my shrink too.
    She took the name of the person Boo recommended, knowing she wouldn’t call her.
    Okay, I’m paranoid, but I’m not telling my deepest secrets to someone recommended by the wife of one of Jacomine’s henchmen. For all I know Boo’s involved with them too .
    Here’s what I don’t get—how does he do this? It’s like he can get to anybody. Or am I being paranoid, as advertised?
    And she wondered, Who can I trust?
    Jimmy Dee, always.
    Cindy Lou.
    Or not?
    She’s Boo’s friend and she’s a shrink. Also, she’s black and Jacomine’s got that phony brotherhood thing going. Worst of all, she knows my lately unstable history. If Boo tells her I’ve gone off the deep end, she might believe her.
    Steve Steinman. No question there.
    Okay, good. All I need is one person, and that’s two. I can get through this.
    * * *
    An emphatic sneeze, audible from the far side of the courtyard, issued from Jimmy Dee’s kitchen as Skip stepped across from the garconnière.
    Layne’s eyes were watering. He held a tissue to his mouth and nose.
    Skip said, “Uh-oh. Did we forget to take our meds again?”
    “They’re wearing off.”
    Angel, the dog, was now apparently shut up somewhere in the back of the house, in deference to her pal’s infirmity. This was the second prescription that had worked for a while and then stopped.
    Jimmy Dee looked panicked. His relationship with Layne was already the longest running of his life, he’d recently told Skip, and to his amazement, it was going beautifully.
    “Magnificently,” he’d said, beaming, not even being slightly ironic, which was nearly unheard-of where Dee- Dee was concerned.
    But then he’d said, “Except, of course, for the Celestial Furball.”
    Dee-Dee, perennially depressed Dee-Dee, was happy for the first time since Skip had known him. When they first met, he was in a funk she thought was permanent. Many of his friends had died, but he never talked about it. He covered up his grief with campy chatter and weed, but she knew.
    The kids and Layne, who’d arrived nearly simultaneously, had made all the difference. He’d had to give up pot because of the bad-example factor, and he still chattered campily, but he smiled a lot more. He was softer, somehow. He’d fallen in love with three people at once: or, to be more accurate, three people and a dog.
    And then Layne’s allergy had come up.
    “Something smells great,” Skip said.
    “Crabmeat Extravaganza. You’re going to love it.”
    “Extravaganza?”
    “You wait.”
    Layne looked miserable. “Wish I could taste it.”
    Dee-Dee said, “Set the table, will you,