A Suspect in the Family

 The mystery/romance continues in Dead as a Girdle with…

Chapter Three

At four forty-five that afternoon, Janelle straightened up her desk. She finally got used to saying Thorne’s Bra and Girdle Company, so she didn’t mind answering the phone, and now she knew how to sort the mail.

         She sighed. In a few days, she would be bored out of her mind—unless she could solve Jed Thorne’s murder.

         While lunch with Helga had been enlightening, Janelle had not found out much information, and she had so many questions. But was Helga the one to ask? That woman didn’t like Jed at all, which was not a good sign.

         Opening the bottom desk drawer, Janelle grabbed her purse, ready to go home. She couldn’t wait to tell Dad about this murder.

         Wait a minute! If she told her dad, he would try to piece the clues together and solve it himself. She needed to prove to Dad, once and for all, that she could solve a murder case on her own. He thought only men made good private detectives, but she would prove him wrong.

         Someday, she would have her own office in Dad’s firm with Janelle Weaver, PI on the door. After all, she didn’t want to be stuck in this cigarette-smelling office all her life—with a barely dressed mannequin staring down at her. 

         The outer door opened. A middle-aged man in a brown suit strolled into the office, an open letter in his hand. In the center of the room he stopped, his attention on the letter.

         Janelle glanced at his tall physique, his thick dark hair, his loosened tie, his tanned hand.

         For being middle-aged, he was certainly handsome.

         She cleared her throat. “May I help you, sir?”

         Looking up, his blue eyes pierced hers. “Oh! Hi there!” He smiled, displaying white even teeth. “You must be the new receptionist.”

         She nodded, thinking he looked familiar. “I’m Janelle Weaver. Today is my first day.”

         Stepping toward her, he stuck out his hand. “Janelle! Great to meet you.” He captured her hand in his. “I must say, you make a lovely addition to this office.”

         He gazed into her eyes, holding her hand a bit longer than she thought was necessary. “I’m Elliot Thorne.” Letting go, he gave her another dazzling smile before he entered his office and shut the door.

         Elliot Thorne! The lazy good-for-nothing Helga had complained about?

Janelle’s mental picture of the overweight balding man faded into oblivion. And no wonder he looked familiar­­—he looked just like his brother, Jed. There was only one description for Elliot Thorne—drop dead gorgeous, and he knew it.

         Or maybe he had applied the “drop dead” part to his brother.

         Hmm…another suspect.   

         This might be a regular Cain and Abel case.      

* * *

         Until tomorrow, God bless!