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Elizabeth Lynn Casey - Deadly Notions

Here you can read online Elizabeth Lynn Casey - Deadly Notions full text of the book (entire story) in english for free. Download pdf and epub, get meaning, cover and reviews about this ebook. year: 2011, publisher: Berkley Publishing, genre: Romance novel. Description of the work, (preface) as well as reviews are available. Best literature library LitArk.com created for fans of good reading and offers a wide selection of genres:

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Librarian Tori Sinclair would do anything for her new circle of friends-including throw a birthday bash for a fellow sewers daughter. While the party is a hit, self-important pageant mom Ashley Lawson leaves the ladies wanting to permanently shut her high maintenance mouth. But when Ashley turns up dead, Tori and the girls need to figure out who really murdered the monster mom, before the finger-pointing causes their friendship to unravel. Read Elizabeth Lynn Caseys blogs and other content on the Penguin Community.

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Table of Contents Everyones a suspect Tori was standing behind her desk - photo 1
Table of Contents Everyones a suspect Tori was standing behind her desk - photo 2
Table of Contents

Everyones a suspect
Tori was standing behind her desk, looking out over the town square, when he showed up, the squeak of his shoes and the pace of his gait solidifying what she knew to be truethe police car parked in front of the library was not a coincidence.
Not by a long shot.
Word had gotten out about the party moms and their feelings toward the victim. Of that she was sure. But it was the who behind the crime she couldnt figure out, particularly in light of the fact that each and every person at Sallys party had uttered a derogatory word under their breath where Ashley Lawson was concerned.
Including her.
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Elizabeth Lynn Casey
SEW DEADLY
DEATH THREADS
PINNED FOR MURDER
DEADLY NOTIONS
For my friends, Lynn Cahoon and Joe Richardson.

Theres no one Id rather stash a body with than the two of you.
Acknowledgments
As always, writing is largely a solitary endeavor. It means long conversations with myself and even longer periods of time hunched over the computeralone.
That said, the most wonderful bursts of sunshine creep through the process in the form of my family. Without them, I wouldnt be half the writer I am.
And then there are my readers, the people who make writing this series all the more fun. Thank you. Your emails and letters mean the world to me. Keep em coming!
Chapter 1
Deadly Notions - image 3
Tori Sinclair held up the next picture in the pile and looked around at the fourteen kindergarteners sitting cross-legged on the braided rug. Who drew this face?
A hand shot into the air. Me!
Okayshe dropped her gaze to the nametag slung around the childs neckBobby. Can you tell us what this face is feeling?
Hes mad as a bear with a sore backside. The redhead rose onto his knees, swiping the back of his hand across his nose as he did.
Mad as a bear with a sore backside? she repeated.
Bobby nodded. Uh-huh. Means hes real mad. Cept when my daddy talks bout the bear, he doesnt say backside , he says butt.
Ah, I see. She pointed at the picture, mentally filing away yet another southern expression to add to her evergrowing lista list that had started the day she moved to Sweet Briar, South Carolina, and that still showed absolutely no sign of completion more than a year later. Can you tell us how you chose to show his anger?
The little boy jumped to his feet and came to stand beside her, his moment in the spotlight no doubt responsible for the face-splitting smile that boasted two missing front teeth. I made his mouth go down right here like this. He poked at the face on his drawing then lifted his finger up to the curlicues shooting out from the sides of the perfectly round head. And see this part? Thats the smoke comin out of his ears.
Wow! He is madder than a bear, aint he? Sally Davis sat up straight in her spot near the center of the circle, her large brown eyes round as saucers. My mee-maw says Jake Juniorthe child paused and looked around at her classmatesthats my big brother in case you didnt know that, gets smoke out his ears when hes mad, too. Cept I aint seen it yet.
Keep lookin, Sally. If its there, youll see it. Bobby turned back to Tori and flashed yet another smile. I did good, didnt I, Miss Sinclair?
You did a very nice job, Bobby, thank you. Shifting his picture to the bottom of the pile, she looked back at the rest of the class, her voice a poor disguise for the laugh that was becoming harder and harder to stifle. And who drew this one?
Jackson Calhoun skipped back into the room from his bathroom trip, his dark brown hair curling at the ends in an exact replica of his father. Ooooh, thats my picture, Miss Sinclair!
She waved him over. Would you like to tell us what your face is feeling, Jackson?
Sure I He stopped midway across the room and stared at his drawing, the corners of his mouth slipping downward. Could I change oneno, two things first? Please? Pretty, pretty please? Ill do it mighty quick. I promise.
Waving off his teachers hesitation, Tori nodded and handed the little boy a pencil. Two seconds later the picture was back in her hand, this time sporting a few lines on each side of the eyes and a long rectangle draped across the center of the mouth. Those are interesting changes, Jackson. Would you like to tell us about it?
Jackson nodded. My face is worried.
Worried?
Again, the child nodded. My mamma says thats what happens when grown-ups give small things big shadows.
Thats the same as being worried, Bobby interjected.
Tori nibbled her lip. Have you ever considered being an interpreter, Bobby?
Whats that? Sally asked.
Thats someone who translates words from one language to another, explained Tori. For example, if I spoke Spanish yet your class spoke only English, I would need an interpreter to explain what Im saying so you could understand.
Nah, I wanna be a race-car driver. Bobby grabbed his make-believe steering wheel and moved it back and forth, car noises emerging from between his lips. And Im gonna be so good I wont never be worried like Jacksons face.
Jacksons face.
She motioned toward Jacksons picture with her head. Okay... tell us.
Well, his eyebrows come down here and hes got lines right hereJackson imitated the illustration with his own faceand this right here? Why, thats his finger pushed up against his mouth. Like hes trying to figure something out to make it all better... but he cant.
Thats very good, Jackson.
Mrs. Morgan helped me.
Hey! Thats not fair, whined a blonde from the back of the group. You said we had to draw these faces on our own.
Mrs. Morgan helped you? she echoed as her gaze left Jackson and traveled around the childrens room of Sweet Briar Public Library. Not seeing her assistant, she looked back at the little boy. When?
Just now... when I went to the potty. Placing his hands on his hips, Jackson turned to face the little girl whod questioned his integrity, his voice taking on an injured quality. She didnt tell me what to draw. She didnt even talk to me.
Then how did she help you?
He looked back at Tori, his eyes wide. You said to close our eyes and try to think how someone looks when theyre happy or sad or worried...
Or mad, dont forget mad, Bobby reminded.
Yep, mad, too. And well, I closed my eyes and I did what you said and thats why the eyebrows are upside down like that. Jackson pointed at the squiggly caterpillar-like marks on the top half of his drawing. But when I went to the bathroom, Mrs. Morgan helped me think of the lines and the finger.
The little girl in the back stamped her foot, dislodging a golden blonde tendril from her perfectly coiffed little head in the process. No fair! Im going to tell my mother!
Jacksons hands found his hips once again. She didnt tell me, Penelope. She showed me... like this. Scrunching up his face, he stuck the index finger of his right hand in front of his mouth.
Did you ask her to demonstrate? Tori asked as she looked from Jackson to his teacher and back again, her mind warring with itself over the urge to laugh at the childs demonstration.
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