The Socialite's Guide to Death and Dating by S. K. Golden

Author:S. K. Golden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

CHAPTER 25

We were seated at a corner booth in the Pinnacle’s diner, the best place for cheeseburgers—I’d told him as much when we each ordered the same meal—with Presley by my side, eating his plate of beef.

Hodgson pulled out a notepad and pen from his jacket pocket. “All right, Miss Marple. Tell your story.”

“Do I not get to eat my burger first?”

He sighed.

“I’m sure you’re hungry too. And look at little Presley.”

My dog perked up his ears at the sound of his name but did not pause in licking his plate clean.

“Yeah.” He set the notebook down. “Fine. But I want to get one thing straight.” He tapped his finger against the shiny tabletop. “I’m in charge here, yeah? But I’m going to need your help if we’re gonna get to the bottom of this. I don’t belong in this world. And without a badge, it’s gonna be hard to get these people to talk to me.”

Wincing, I said, “It was probably difficult to get them to talk to you before, even with the badge. What with your personality and all.”

Hodgson glared at me, but there was no heat in it.

We ate in silence until the table next to us left, and a waitress came over to clear their booth. A wallet was lying partially open on one of the chairs. I snatched it, but the waitress and the patrons were gone.

“Stealing now, Miss Murphy?”

I slurped at my strawberry shake. “Finding,” I replied. “I’ll give it to the lost and found when we’re done here. Are you ready?”

He nodded and wiped his mouth clean. Hodgson flipped open his notebook and uncapped his pen. “Go ahead.”

I recounted, to the best of my ability, everything that had happened since the party. I didn’t skate around why Mac and I had been in the parking garage in the first place, didn’t lie like I had to my father about our less than stellar intentions. I mentioned the valet because that seemed important, and talked about what it was like finding Judge Baker, about the woman who had sat up out of the trunk and screamed when she saw me.

He knew what had happened at the police station, but I recounted the conversation between McJimsey and myself when he had been out of the room. Hodgson wrote everything down so fast it was a wonder his pen didn’t leave smoke behind.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember everything that had happened once I returned from the police station. Daddy had picked me up. I’d cooked for him. He didn’t like Mac, and Mac didn’t like him. I’d ended the conversation. Rang for Dr. Smith to check on Daddy. Called Hodgson for information about the woman in the trunk. Gone to bed without a kiss goodnight.

Why hadn’t Mac kissed me goodnight?

And then, a few hours later, Mac and Presley were gone. Daddy’s suite hadn’t been like I was expecting. No coffee brewing, no maid cleaning, no early morning shower getting hot. Instead, Daddy had been on the floor of his bedroom, convulsing.

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