Free Murder Takes a Dare: The First Marisa Adair Mystery Adventure (Marisa Adair Mysteries Book 1) by Jada Ryker Page B

allow a helpless, vulnerable person who cannot fight back to be attacked by the one person she loves most. Also, and perhaps most compelling, it so happens I have had numerous conversations with your mother. She worked long, grueling hours in a food-processing factory for twenty years after her husband, in the throes of a mid-life crisis involving your eighteen-year-old babysitter, left her and their four young children. Your brother was killed in an automobile accident ten years ago. Five years ago, your sister’s abusive husband killed her, your other sister, and himself. That leaves you, miserable and despicable as you are, as the last child to make a mother’s last years pleasant and comfortable.”
    Unceremoniously, Clay released the rumpled man. He stared down in contempt as the younger man slid down the wall. “You can begin right now by apologizing to her.”
    Keeping one eye on Clay in case he made any sudden movements, Witherspoon gingerly moved to his mother’s bedside. Althea, after a questioning look at Clay, finally relinquished her position at the sobbing woman’s side and moved noiselessly to Clay’s side.
    The chastened son bent his head over his mother’s semi-reclining figure. When Althea saw his mother cower away from her son in fear, she surged forward. Clay placed a restraining hand on her arm, and shook his head at her. Silently, he tugged at her gently until she followed him into the dimly lit hall.
    “Is it safe for us to leave the miserable little sleaze ball alone with her?” queried Althea with a concerned frown.
    “I think so, since he’s terrified of the consequences of not being kind to her. However, to be sure, when we pass the nurses’ station on our way to the dining room, I’m going to ask the nurse in charge to check on her.”
    He was as good as his word. After they’d crossed the spacious, common living area of the facility, Clay stopped at the adjoining, brightly lit nurses’ station. He bent over the red-haired, white-uniformed Ms. Crimpton and spoke to her. She nodded briskly, and closed the patient’s chart within which she’d been writing notes. After she’d disappeared down the hall, Clay escorted Althea to the deserted dining room.
    “By the way, what was that tapping sound I heard coming from your room?” Clay pulled out Althea’s chair.
    Althea squirmed, reluctant to tell him about her fiction writing. “I’m working on an article for The Teacher’s Monthly Magazine.”
    Clay turned away to pour cups of coffee. “It was the sound of a manual typewriter. My goodness, I haven’t heard that tap-tapping in years.”
    Her steaming cup in front of her, Althea stared at Clay as he stirred sugar into his coffee.
    He looked up suddenly, catching and holding her gaze. One silver brow rose in silent inquiry.
    Without thinking, Althea blurted her thoughts. “Either you’re a paradox or I’ve very unfairly misjudged you. Since I came here, I assumed you were…” Althea hesitated.
    “Shallow?” Clay supplied smoothly. “Vain? Lacking in substance?” His face was completely expressionless.
    Althea tried to look past the image he had presented and cultivated, and into his soul. “I thought you lacked a fire in your spirit, and now I know you’re so full of passion it seems to spill out of you. I didn’t bother to look below the surface. I know better than anyone not to make judgments without all of the facts, yet that’s exactly what I did.”
    She allowed him to see her gentle admiration. “Had I stumbled onto the scene alone, I’d have certainly dialed 911. Your solution was brilliant and sublime, and will result in the best outcome for Mrs. Witherspoon.”
    “It’s not her fault her son was so overcome by greed and envy it obliterated everything else from his brain.”
    Nurse Crimpton strode quickly through the common area, and resumed her seat behind the counter of the nurse’s station.
    “Now, Mr. Napier, what did you mean earlier when you said we