Secrets in a Still Life, Kari Ganske [best fiction books to read .TXT] 📗

blaring horn. It’s not like I aimed for the stupid thing. Or that I was going too fast. Or driving "egregiously."

I took a seat toward the back, thankful that the class would only last four to six hours. I hoped my instructor leaned closer to the four hours length. A few more people filled in around me—no one I recognized, thank goodness. It amazed me that this many people in Piney Ridge needed Driver Improvement Program. I honestly thought I might be the only one. Then again, if Judge Cockran assigned it to me with only one offense, he probably handed out this class as liberally as my mother traded gossip.

As the nine o'clock start time came and went, the group around me started shifting in their seats and looking from the clock to the door. Used to sitting still and waiting, I observed the room from my seat in the back. If I had my camera, I'd frame the gentleman at the front of the room with neck wrinkles so thick his index finger got caught in one as he scratched his neck impatiently. I'd also love to capture the look of pure annoyance on the face of the middle-aged woman seated a row ahead of me. Unlike me, this woman clearly had other things she'd rather be doing. Her bouncing leg reminded me of the popcorn Grampa Klafkeniewski used to make in the skillet on the stove.

"Is this like college?" a younger student asked. "Like, if the instructor doesn't show up in fifteen minutes we all get to leave?"

The annoyed woman scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't want to leave. I want to get this over with. I had to make arrangements with my kids' daycare and work. It's highly inconvenient."

"Should we call someone?" the wrinkled gentleman asked.

Before anyone could answer, a blue blur that could have been a Piney Ridge PD uniform streaked into the room with a flurry of "I'm sorry. So sorry."

I smiled when the streak came to rest behind the desk at the front of the room. Andrea Martinez.

Andrea surveyed the group as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes locked with mine. I smiled encouragingly. Officer Martinez's shoulders removed themselves from her ears as she visibly relaxed.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone. Thank you for waiting. We are in the middle of a big case, and things are starting to move," she explained, avoiding my eyes now. "I may need to excuse myself during class if I get a call."

The mention of the big case had us all sitting up in our seats. Obviously, she meant Missy's murder. That was not only the biggest case in Piney Ridge, but the only case as far as I could tell. But Officer Martinez was done talking about it apparently. She moved right into the first part of the program.

About an hour in, my eyes started drooping. I still hadn't managed to get any earplugs and those missed hours of sleep in the mornings were catching up to me.

That reminded me I also needed to add bread to list. Or maybe birdseed? Did chickens eat birdseed? My little friend, whom I'd nicknamed Nugget, came to visit me every morning for breakfast. This morning, I sat on the landing next to Nugget and placed some of the bread pieces on my legs. Without hesitation, Nugget jumped right up onto my lap. Inconceivably, I wished I could be more like the chicken—trusting and confident. Two things I used to be before the big wide world—with a little help from a missing brother and a final nudge from Wreck-it Rick—turned me cynical and wary.

I glanced at the clock on the wall for the millionth time. Only ten more minutes had passed since I last checked. I stifled a yawn. Mr. Wrinkles had his head resting heavily in his hand. Ms. I'm Too Busy not so discreetly played a game on her phone. We all needed some coffee or to at least splash some cold water on our faces to wake up.

As if I willed it with my wishes, Officer Martinez's phone rang. That woke everyone up.

She glanced at the screen and muttered an apology. "I have to take this. Take a ten-minute bio break, and we'll meet back here at ten thirty."

She stepped into the hall. I didn't have to be told twice. I shot up out of my chair to stretch and try to wake myself up. I didn't want to be rude to Officer Martinez by falling asleep on her. It wasn't her fault the material was as dry as an elephant bone in the Sahara. I wandered through the halls looking for the bathroom.

"The results are in already?" Officer Martinez's voice stopped me in my tracks.

I ducked around the corner so I could unabashedly eavesdrop.

"What's the murder weapon?" Officer Martinez asked in a hushed voice. She listened, her eyes going wide. "Scissors? The M.E. is sure?" Another pause. "Right now? I'm in the middle of Driver Improvement Class." I heard her footsteps as she paced up and down the hallway. "Okay. Okay. I understand. I'll be there in ten."

Forgetting all about the bathroom, I rushed back down the hallway in case Officer Martinez came my way. I sat on the edge of my seat, leg bouncing as hard as the annoyed woman's was earlier. Scissors were the murder weapon? Like hair-cutting scissors? Could this mean that Kelly was the killer after all? But she'd been at the salon all day. At least that's what she told the detectives. I really wanted to talk this through with Colleen or Linc.

My heart sank a little. It would have to be Colleen since Linc basically told me he was done with me, on Monday. We'd barely spoken a word to each other yesterday when I reported to the firehouse. He pointed to a stack of