Read Natural Suspect (2001) for Free Online

just hate it when I get all stuck to that leather like that. Maybe we could put a sheet down or something."
    "Are you saying you think I killed Arthur?"
    Palms upward, she squeezed her breasts together with her elbows. "Well, duh, Morgy. It's not like he didn't deserve it anyway. And you didn't hurt him."
    "I didn't kill him, Sissy."
    "Oh," she said, obviously unconvinced. "Of course. You have to say that. I know. But I was thinking and I finally figured it out, why you had me go to the Sweeney on the fourth of November. You were trying to protect both me and Julia at the same time."
    "No I wasn't. I was planning to meet you there, but my other plans ..."
    "I know. That's what you said, with Joe Kellogg. But I wanted to tell you I knew, so you could tell me if you did. Kill Arthur, I mean."
    "I didn't."
    A knowing smile. "Okay, Morgy. No big deal. Really. I didn't mean for you to get upset." She let her generous body fall back onto the leather again. "But no rug over me anymore, okay. I really am hot, Morgy. So hot I may need that big old fire extinguisher pretty soon."
    " I t's my civic duty, Janie. I know it's a little bit of a hardship, but--"
    "It ain't no little bit of nothing, Jack." Janie knew that her husband Jack Powell hated it when she talked "black," and this was why she was doing it now. She was angry angry angry, and she wanted him to know it without a doubt. "This ain't likely no little bit" she repeated, and then reverted back to her normal diction. She was, after all, making an argument here, and she wasn't going to win by making her husband mad. "Really, Jack. This is a big bit of a problem for us. How are we supposed to get by when you're making eight dollars and forty-five cents a day on this jury duty? Who knows for how long? And how's our new shop that we've worked and saved and slaved for going to have any kind of fighting chance if you're not here to work it?"
    Jack had come to his place of business--Jaksnakshak--directly from the courtroom after the Hightower trial had adjourned for the day, and now he stood in his shirtsleeves behind the deli case. Thirty-three years old, he was six feet two inches tall and weighed 220 pounds, all of it muscle.
    He knew, and when he'd been younger he'd consistently and often proved, that he could beat up just about anybody, and that confidence now resided quietly inside him. He didn't have to talk loud. He didn't have to shove anyone, or clench his fists, or even frown. He knew who he was, who he'd become after a rocky start. He was content with it, and wore that contentment in his face ninety percent of the time.
    He really had nothing to prove, except to Janie. He had to prove to her that he loved her. And he wasn't going to do that by fighting. "Work it?" he asked softly. "What does it look like I'm doing now?"
    And in fact, he was working. Working hard. He'd already spent an hour on the books and the cash--Jaksnakshak, so far, was only open for the lunch trade, and it had closed for the day at four o'clock.
    Now, at eight, the two automatic slicers were cutting tomorrows paper-thin Italian salami and Virginia ham, and he was peeling the bologna and pastrami for the slicers' next rounds. At the same time, he was wrapping the cheeses--Swiss and provolone and cheddar--in tight packets with Handi-Wrap so that they'd be almost as fresh as fresh cut the next day. The almost bothered him, but he'd learned he had to make some compromises.
    Janie wiped her hands on the apron that pinched at her expanding waist. The baby was due in three more months, and she was sick with worry. She didn't mean to snap at Jack--God knew he was the best man she'd ever even dreamed of, much less gone out with--but this trial was . . . well, a trial for them, too. It seemed such an unnecessary burden, so unfair that the jury summons had come just when it had, leaving so much of the work to her.
    Suddenly she realized that the anger was gone. She crossed the space to her husband, put her arms