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Back Fleeced Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Acknowledgments
  2. FLEECED
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. 79
  82. 80
  83. 81
  84. About the Author

“According to the maid, Nat took a shower every night. Maybe the killer used the towels to dry the stall so if Nat was found in the bathtub not too long after he died, it wouldn’t be suspicious that the shower was all wet.”

“We didn’t have any indication that this was anything but an accident. With all the people, including our cops, who have traipsed through there since Pemrod was found dead, any crime scene would be tainted. I think the chance of getting relevant physical evidence is nil.”

“I know. Let’s see what we can get from that list. In the meantime, I have a couple of other leads to work on.”

61

Georgette was restless. Blaise had gone off to his butler class, and she was left to twiddle her thumbs until the evening, when she’d head over to the party. There was no money for shopping, and she didn’t have the energy to do her rounds of the coffee shops.

Life was bleak.

She turned on the television in their little studio and started cleaning up. If only we had gotten those diamonds, she thought. On the counter were the four glass stones that had been in Nat’s red box. She was about to throw them in the garbage, but something made her pick them up and hold them in her palm.

Sitting back down on the bed, she closed her hand over the stones and started to chant. Not that she was a real chanter. This was a chant she made up. Over the years, she’d visited psychics and had a mild interest in enlightenment. She thought that by chanting right now she might get a message about the location of the real diamonds.

“Ummmmm,” she chanted in a singsong voice, closing her eyes. “Ummmmm.”

No message so far.

She opened her eyes and stared at the glass stones. Nothing. She shut her eyes even tighter, leaned back and cried, “Ummmmmmmmm.”

“Ummmmm” turned to “owwwww” when she banged her head against the cinderblock wall. Rubbing her bruised cranium, she pulled up the teddy bear that had been with her through thick and thin—lately mostly thin—and gave it a hug.

“Buttercup, what are we going to do?” She smiled when she thought about how she’d told Nat to call her Buttercup. He was a really nice old guy. Better than the one down in Florida who got nasty and called the cops when he caught her taking some jewelry. She hightailed it out of there fast. But Nat was sweet. Just the way he loved those sheep meant he had a good soul.

Georgette held out her teddy bear. “He had Dolly and Bah-Bah, and I have you.”

The teddy bear stared back at her. It was so old that one of its eyes was gone.