Murder Takes A Bow - A Betty Crawford Mystery (The Betty Crawford Mysteries) by Liz Marvin Page A
Authors: Liz Marvin
Ads: Link
taking over my job, Betty?"
Betty shook her head. "Nope." She looked over at the gaggle of reporters surrounding Walter. "Aren’t you going to go save him?"
Bill shook his head, smiling wickedly. Betty felt her cheeks heat. "Nah. We’ll let him fry a little first before we arrest him for obstruction of justice. Coming back in?" He held the door open for her.
CHAPTER 18
"All taken care of!" Betty burst out, throwing open the door of the room where Clarise and Sgt. Wes still waiting. Clarise straightened up with a snap from where she’d been resting, her head on Wes’s shoulder. Wes removed his arm from around her slowly.
At least some good came of this, Betty thought. It’s about time.
Clarise eyed Betty’s smug expression. "What, exactly, did you do?"
Betty hummed, twiddling her thumbs and drawing out the giddiness that had come with putting Walter in his place. "Well…" she said.
"Betty…" Clarise glared at her. Betty tried not to squirm. She was having far too much fun.
"What?"
"Betty!"
She shrugged. "It’s nothing really. I just made Walter’s little press conference work against him." By the time she’d finished sketching out what had happened outside, even Wes was smiling.
"This I have to see," he said. "Maybe Bill will let me arrest him." He looked over at Clarise. "If you’re okay, that is…?"
Clarise shooed him out the door. "Go! I’ll be here when you get back." Her eyes followed him out before she turned back to Betty.
"So, how did practice go?"
"Maybe you can coach by webcam?" Betty asked. "I don’t seem to be cut out for it. I can’t even bring snacks!"
Clarise shook her head in sorrow. "My poor girls. What was I thinking, leaving them to a barbarian like you?" Betty smacked her. "What? You’re the one who forgets snacks, not me! Speaking of…"
Uh oh, Betty thought.
"Have you told your parents yet?"
"About what?" She really didn’t want to talk about this. She really, really, really didn’t want to bring down the mood. They were laughing! Why did they have to turn all serious?
Clarise gave her the look, the one that mothers and best friends the world over used to let someone know that didn’t buy a word of the crap spewing from your mouth.
"Oh, fine." Betty sank back into the chair in defeat. "No, I haven’t." She held up a hand to stop Clarise from speaking. "If you want me to talk, be quiet." Clarise nodded. Like she had so many times over the past few years, she sat in front of Betty, waiting. It didn’t matter that she was sitting across a table in a police station, or that anyone could walk in at any moment. Somehow, that particular look, an attentive, non judgmental, steady gaze that only Clarise seemed to perfect, always cracked Betty’s resolve to not say a word. Unbidden, everything she’d tried to put aside in favor of helping Clarise came tumbling out.
"I have no idea how they’ll react," she began. "What if they’re angry at me? Or disappointed? What if they think it’s my fault? Or worse, what if they decide they have to change their entire lives to fit my new diet? They’re like that, you know." She looked at Clarise for confirmation, and her friend gestured for her to continue. "I don’t want them to feel guilty having sweets or things I can’t eat while I’m around, and I don’t want to make their lives any harder than they already are. Isn’t it enough that they’ve taken me in? Now I have diabetes on top of it? It’s not fair."
"So?" Clarise asked.
Betty looked at her incredulously. "So what?"
"So what if it’s not fair? It’s what is. Your parents aren’t going to cut you out for being sick. And if they want to help you be healthy, that’s their choice to make. You should let them make it."
Betty had
Betty shook her head. "Nope." She looked over at the gaggle of reporters surrounding Walter. "Aren’t you going to go save him?"
Bill shook his head, smiling wickedly. Betty felt her cheeks heat. "Nah. We’ll let him fry a little first before we arrest him for obstruction of justice. Coming back in?" He held the door open for her.
CHAPTER 18
"All taken care of!" Betty burst out, throwing open the door of the room where Clarise and Sgt. Wes still waiting. Clarise straightened up with a snap from where she’d been resting, her head on Wes’s shoulder. Wes removed his arm from around her slowly.
At least some good came of this, Betty thought. It’s about time.
Clarise eyed Betty’s smug expression. "What, exactly, did you do?"
Betty hummed, twiddling her thumbs and drawing out the giddiness that had come with putting Walter in his place. "Well…" she said.
"Betty…" Clarise glared at her. Betty tried not to squirm. She was having far too much fun.
"What?"
"Betty!"
She shrugged. "It’s nothing really. I just made Walter’s little press conference work against him." By the time she’d finished sketching out what had happened outside, even Wes was smiling.
"This I have to see," he said. "Maybe Bill will let me arrest him." He looked over at Clarise. "If you’re okay, that is…?"
Clarise shooed him out the door. "Go! I’ll be here when you get back." Her eyes followed him out before she turned back to Betty.
"So, how did practice go?"
"Maybe you can coach by webcam?" Betty asked. "I don’t seem to be cut out for it. I can’t even bring snacks!"
Clarise shook her head in sorrow. "My poor girls. What was I thinking, leaving them to a barbarian like you?" Betty smacked her. "What? You’re the one who forgets snacks, not me! Speaking of…"
Uh oh, Betty thought.
"Have you told your parents yet?"
"About what?" She really didn’t want to talk about this. She really, really, really didn’t want to bring down the mood. They were laughing! Why did they have to turn all serious?
Clarise gave her the look, the one that mothers and best friends the world over used to let someone know that didn’t buy a word of the crap spewing from your mouth.
"Oh, fine." Betty sank back into the chair in defeat. "No, I haven’t." She held up a hand to stop Clarise from speaking. "If you want me to talk, be quiet." Clarise nodded. Like she had so many times over the past few years, she sat in front of Betty, waiting. It didn’t matter that she was sitting across a table in a police station, or that anyone could walk in at any moment. Somehow, that particular look, an attentive, non judgmental, steady gaze that only Clarise seemed to perfect, always cracked Betty’s resolve to not say a word. Unbidden, everything she’d tried to put aside in favor of helping Clarise came tumbling out.
"I have no idea how they’ll react," she began. "What if they’re angry at me? Or disappointed? What if they think it’s my fault? Or worse, what if they decide they have to change their entire lives to fit my new diet? They’re like that, you know." She looked at Clarise for confirmation, and her friend gestured for her to continue. "I don’t want them to feel guilty having sweets or things I can’t eat while I’m around, and I don’t want to make their lives any harder than they already are. Isn’t it enough that they’ve taken me in? Now I have diabetes on top of it? It’s not fair."
"So?" Clarise asked.
Betty looked at her incredulously. "So what?"
"So what if it’s not fair? It’s what is. Your parents aren’t going to cut you out for being sick. And if they want to help you be healthy, that’s their choice to make. You should let them make it."
Betty had
Similar Books
