Free Fatal Identity by Joanne Fluke Page B

Marcie had agreed. Brad shouldn’t worry. She would take care of everything. But in the cold light of morning, Marcie wondered exactly what she should do. How did one arrange a funeral in a city as large as Los Angeles? Thank goodness Sam was coming over this morning to help her. But he could be on his way right now, and she wasn’t even dressed!
    Marcie walked to the connecting door to Brad’s room, and knocked. Perhaps he hadn’t left yet. She needed to ask him if she could borrow some of Mercedes’s clothes until the airline delivered hers. But there was no answer.
    Marcie opened the door and peeked in. There were several crumpled towels on the floor, and she could smell the faint hint of his cologne in the air. She was too late. Brad was gone.
    Even though she’d urged Brad to go to the golf tournament, Marcie still felt a bit deserted. But that was why she’d come, wasn’t it? She was there to deal with the tragic details and spare Brad and the children. She just wished that Brad had knocked on her door to say something before he’d left.
    Marcie hesitated in the doorway for a moment, and then she stepped in. Brad’s room was done in dark green, with green and gold plaid on the overstuffed chairs on either side of the fireplace. Mercedes had mentioned that Brad’s favorite color was green, and the room was obviously decorated to please him. There was a heavy mahogany bed with dark green sheets and a matching bedspread. It was flanked by two mahogany bed tables, with identical brass lamps on their tops. On the far wall was a huge mahogany dresser, six drawers high and four drawers wide. There was a life-size portrait of Mercedes in a brass frame hanging over the fireplace, and several Remington prints on the walls.
    Even though she knew she shouldn’t intrude on Brad’s private quarters, Marcie couldn’t resist walking over to examine the prints. She reached up to touch one, and gasped as she realized that they weren’t prints. Four Remington originals! Marcie’s mind boggled at what they must be worth. Then she saw the sculpture on the table between the two overstuffed chairs, and she gasped again. Another original Remington. It must have cost a fortune!
    Marcie took a quick turn around the room, noticing the large walk-in closet filled with expensive clothing on wooden hangers, and the bathroom with its private sauna. This was a totally masculine room, the direct opposite of Mercedes’s feminine boudoir.
    Marcie had been shocked when she’d first learned about her sister’s living arrangements. Wasn’t there something wrong when a married couple chose to sleep in separate bedrooms? But then Mercedes had explained it, and it all made perfect sense. She often had early calls when she was working on a movie, and Brad was normally a late sleeper. Mercedes preferred to go to bed early, and Brad stayed up past midnight almost every night . It’s just that we have conflicting schedules, Mercedes had said with a laugh. It doesn’t mean that we don’t love each other. After all, we have a connecting door.
    Marcie walked back to Mercedes’s room and shut the connecting door. She felt slightly guilty for examining Brad’s room, but she couldn’t help being interested in the handsome man her twin sister had married.
    She still hadn’t solved the problem of what to wear, but perhaps Rosa was here by now. Marcie picked up the telephone on her sister’s night table, and pressed the intercom button. She really didn’t want to wear the same clothes she’d worn yesterday. They were wrinkled from her long airplane flight. But she wasn’t sure it was right to wear her sister’s clothes. She’d ask Rosa what to do.
    â€œMiss Marcie!” Rosa answered on the first ring. “I’ll bring your tea right up.”
    Marcie frowned. For some strange reason, she didn’t feel like tea this morning.