Free A Novel Murder by Ginger Simpson Page A

Naomi laughed.
    “You. She snagged her friend’s arm and tugged her inside. “If I don’t talk to someone, I’m gonna explode. I almost called Mom, but she never listens to me. She’s always too busy rehashing Daddy’s death, and I just couldn’t deal with that today.”
    Nay carried the paper sack to the counter and turned, her brows knitted. “What’s go you so riled?”
    “Another vision.”
    “Really? Nay pulled a chair from under the table and sank into it. “Do tell.”
    Michelle leaned against the counter. “I’d just arrived back at the station from a failed attempt to see someone I think might be able to shed some light on the latest case, when there it was…just like an HD movie screen floating in the air. I saw another woman murdered…strangled just like the other one.”
    “You seem even more spooked by this one. I hear it in your voice.”
    “I sensed I knew this one! Honestly, if not for her eye color, I swear she was the stripper I met at Kitty Katz. She wasn’t at work when I went back, but I’m supposed to return around nine, when she’s on shift.”
    “Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to a strip joint by yourself at night.”
    “Not you, too. I already had this discussion with Tony, and I’ll tell you exactly what I told him. I’m a big girl and I’ve got it handled.”
    “Well, you’ll excuse me if I point out the obvious?”
    “What’s that?”
    “You don’t seem to have a very good handle on anything at the moment. An unsolved murder, visions you can’t explain, and now a third killing you’ll have to pretend you know nothing about. Not to mention you’re freaked out about the victim being someone you’ve met.”
    “Oh, is that all. I thought you were going to mention my lacking love life or the fact that I’m a frustrated author forced to work a depressing job that keeps me having these stupid visions.”
    Michelle crossed to the gadget drawer and found the corkscrew. “Honestly, Naomi, you’ve got it right. I don’t know which end is up at the moment. I hate my job more every day.”
    “Really?” Naomi gazed dreamily into space. “I always thought it would be exciting to be a policeman…ah…person. You have no idea what boring is like until you’ve worked in the stone silence of a library for years.”
    “Wine?” Michelle started to pour.
    “Well, why shouldn’t I whine? My life is just as bad, if not worse than yours.”
    “No, silly, I meant would you like some.” She chuckled.
    “Oh…sure. “ She realized her blunder. “But, really, Shell, I don’t have anyone in my life either. I rarely see Paul these days. At least you have Tony to drool over, and you work with lots of other handsome men. All I see all day are nerds who come to read because they can’t find a girlfriend…or girls in the same situation as the guys. Honestly, I need that wine. Keep the bottle handy.”
    Michelle carried two glasses over and placed them on the coffee table. Naomi changed from the chair to the sofa, and Michelle joined her at the opposite end. “Men aren’t all they’re cracked up to be…actually, you hardly ever hear of a woman committing more than one murder, and usually they offed a man, and probably for good reason. Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gassey, Jack the Ripper…all testosterone-toting beings who felt the need to kill continuously, and why? Because their moms didn‘t breastfeed them long enough? Someone bullied them? I’d much rather be writing a book about a woman perp…at least I could maybe figure out and understand some possible motives, even predict the killer’s next movement, but I’m stumped on this case.
    “Well, if you want, I can go with you tonight. That way you won’t be going alone, and we could sort of call it a girl’s night…but only if you want.”
    Michelle drew her bottom lip between her teeth and peered from beneath a forehead she crinkled. To fabricate a fib or tell the truth? Decisions, decisions. She took a deep