Free Bernadine Fagan - Nora Lassiter 02 - Murder in the Maine Woods by Bernadine Fagan

are you packed?”
    “Lori called you?”
    “When are you leaving, Nora?”
    “I don’t believe Lori called you. You called her, didn’t you?”
    “I spoke to her. That’s the important part.”
    “You are such a liar, Howie. My brother, the liar.” I rolled my eyes and changed the subject. “Have you put in for your vacation yet?”
    “We’re not coming up to Maine.”
    “That’s not what I asked.”
    “But it’s where you were headed, wasn’t it? You want Mom and me to visit the family enclave. Mend fences. I’m not into that. Mom said she doesn’t want to go either. Neither one of us wants a tension-filled vacation. I have enough tension at work. Besides, my vacation starts in November. Who wants to leave Florida for Maine in November? Crazy people, that’s who.”
    “Howie, Great-Grandma Evie made the request. You read the letter that was included in her will. You know she wants me to get the family back together again. Help me out here.”
    “No can do, Nora. Besides, you’re returning to New York soon.”
    “I’m not leaving just yet.”
    “Oh?”
    “I’m joining the choir.”
    Silence on the other end.
    “Howie?”
    “The choir, Nora? Is that what you said?”
    “My exact words.”
    He laughed. Then he laughed some more. He tried to speak a few times, but couldn’t manage it over his stupid laughing. Finally, I shouted, “Howie, I’m glad I was able to cheer you up today,” and c licked off.
    After my shower, I dressed in the outfit I’d laid out this morning—the white T-shirt, the belt with bling, the sand-colored slim jeans, the cherry cord jacket with the toasty lining. I felt good about how I looked, although the red was risky. It’s not on my color palette. Sometimes I deviate.
    I pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office, driving a little faster than usual and bumped—actually it was just a tiny tap, hardly worth mentioning—into the Police Vehicles Only sign. I considered the damage. Nothing to speak of. The sign canted at a forty-five degree angle. Big deal. I backed away and parked farther down the street.
    Skinny Trimble was behind the booking desk talking to Nick when I entered the building.
    “Vivian’s lawyer is still with her,” Nick said, stepping down from the long dais. “I haven’t eaten lunch. Want to keep me company at the Country Store?”
    “Sure.”
    As soon as we were out the door, I cut to the chase. “I know your mother hates me and thinks I’m not needed or wanted, but I can help, especially with the computers.”
    What I really wanted him to know, if he didn’t know already, was that his mother disapproved of me. Maybe he would explain why.
    “I want you,” he whispered in my ear as he slipped his arm around my shoulder, “and you want to see Buster’s computer more than you want to see Vivian, more than you want to have lunch with me. Especially more than you want to have lunch with me.”
    Not true. You’d think a cop would be more perceptive.
    “I’ve heard that the trail gets colder with each day that passes,” I said, rather than mention Arianna again.
    “ Law and Order ?”
    “Could be. Or maybe it was one of the CSI shows. I can’t be sure.”
    As we went up the steps to the Country Store, he said, “Are you planning to break into my evidence room?”
    “Is there a chance I’d be successful?”
    “You have a chain cutter?”
    We took the last booth in the back, and the waitress came over immediately, eager to please. Her tight little curls bobbed as she said, “Hi, Sheriff,” and handed Nick a menu.
    She looked at me, smiling, waiting for me to introduce myself. Some things are expected in Silver Stream.
    “Nora Lassiter.” I extended my hand.
    “I’m Alice.” She grabbed my hand and pumped vigorously. “Your assistant told me all about you.
    Mary Fran strikes again. “Happy to meet you.”
    “And I’m happy to meet you. If I need any investigating done, I know just who to call.” She quickly glanced at