Death Comes eCalling (27 page)

Authors: Leslie O'Kane

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: Death Comes eCalling

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Tommy declined my offer to come inside. He kicked at a dead leaf on my porch. Sensing he had something he wanted to say to me in private, I lingered on the front porch with him and closed the door.

“Molly, I feel so bad about what happened. Your son getting threatened like that. Is there anything I can do?”

“It was my fault. I should’ve just given you the information and let you take it from there. Can you recommend a child psychologist? Someone who can help Nathan and Karen talk about what they experienced?”

“I know the perfect person,” he said, taking a pen and pad from his pocket. “She was wonderful with my boys when my wife died. They were older, you know, but she’s great with younger ones, too.”

“I’m sorry about Carolee.”

“Me too.” He reddened. “She just wanted to get at Mrs. Kravett’s money through me. Guess I shoulda realized that right away.”

“Tommy, any woman would be lucky to have a man like you. I’ll bet Carolee realized that, too, despite all her problems.”

He sighed. “Least I’d rather have it be her than Lauren. For Lauren’s little girl’s sake.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“What does your husband really do?”

“He’s an electrical engineer.”

He nodded. “Sometimes…you remind me of my late wife. Your husband is a lucky man.”

I took a halting breath, feeling such a rush of gratitude and sorrow for Tommy that I nearly cried. “Thanks. Your sons are lucky to have you as a father.”

He shrugged. “Take care of yourself.” He handed me the note with the psychologist’s name.

“You too, Tommy.”

“Sometimes I wish—” He stopped and smiled sheepishly. “I won’t forget to return your letter from Mrs. Kravett, after the trial.” He touched the brim of his hat, then left.

I went inside and read a pair of picture books to Karen and Nathan, my mind only half focused on the words.

There were so many things I didn’t understand about people, about the choices each of us makes. I knew now that part of the reason I’d been so intent on coming back to Carlton was to achieve some level of peace with my past. Only time would tell if that goal had been accomplished.

With Carolee under arrest, I didn’t have to fear notifying my customers about a change of address. It was possible to think about going home, back to Boulder. If we left soon, the children would have missed only the first couple of weeks of school. I’d give Jim a call, and we’d decide together what was best for everyone.

Promising I’d be right back. I slipped downstairs intending to call Jim, then realized it was four-thirty on Saturday morning there. With little else to do on weekends, Jim told me he always went to the office on Saturdays, but he’d probably be asleep for at least three more hours.

My email had a message. It was from the woman I’d spoken to at the office-equipment store. She wasn’t the manager of just that particular store, but of the entire national chain. She wanted permission to use my “breeze whispering Swiss cheese” to coincide with their introduction of a high-end laser printer. She suggested I call her on Monday to discuss the matter further.

I jotted Jim a note that “Carolee Richards, the nurse who lives across the street from Lauren, was Steve’s and Mrs. Kravett’s murderer.”

My friends always find it a little odd that I rarely send cards myself. That was probably due to some easily explained neurosis. This time, though, to accompany my note, I made an absurd little drawing of a man and a woman, who looked roughly like Jim and me, being dragged by a cow. The woman says to the man, “Well, at least we’ve got each udder.” I emailed it to Jim’s office, knowing he’d see it at some point that day.

Then I went upstairs where my children were currently riveted to the couch, staring at the TV screen. I turned off the set and announced, over their groans, that I was going to read aloud to them. Karen and Nathan uttered another token complaint or two, then helped me build a fire, and we tossed some pillows in front of the hearth. I located my childhood copy of A.A. Milne’s
Now We Are Six
and read in the flickering yellow firelight, Karen resting against one of my shoulders, Nathan against the other.

An hour or so later, I asked the children to excuse me for just a moment, then dashed downstairs to check my email, hoping Jim had sent a response. There was a note from him. I literally hopped up and down and wept with joy as I read:

JUST GOT THE GREATEST NEWS!

My boss finally came through with a replacement for me here. He’s reassigned me to Albany, after all. Have to get packed. Flight’s leaving in two hours. See you soon!

I love you. Jim

P.S. Your drawing of a cow needs a little work. It looks like an ugly horse.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Leslie O’Kane also writes under the pseudonym of Leslie Caine. She considers the incident in which she was taken hostage to be the start of her “life in crime.” When the robber clobbered her with a shotgun to make her stop laughing, she learned that a sense of humor can be dangerous. Leslie lives in Boulder, Colorado.

Dear Readers,

I hope you have enjoyed my book. If so, I hope you will want to read my other books in the Molly Masters series. Especially for dog lovers, you might also enjoy my Allie Babcock series. I am currently in the process of writing a radically different style of book—a trilogy of thrillers for young adults, which I anticipate having available as eBooks in July of 2013.

If, however, my writing style doesn’t appeal to you, I hope you are at least having a nice day. Thank you for reaching the end of my book even so.

As I am writing this, my website is being redone by my wonderful Web Designer, Maddee James. Please visit my site at
LeslieOKane.com.

Thank you so very much for reading my book and supporting my career. You have my deepest appreciation, and my warmest wishes always.

Yours sincerely,

Leslie O’Kane

Books By Leslie O’Kane

DEATH COMES eCALLING

DEATH COMES TO SUBURBIA

DEATH COMES TO THE PTA

DEATH OF A GARDENER

DEATH COMES TO A RETREAT

DEATH ON A SCHOOL BOARD