Randy White - Black Widow

I don’t know why you blamed that shit-heel uncle of yours. Maybe you wasn’t sure. Maybe something up in your head was blocking the truth. So that’s why I’m writing to tell you.

You got the right man, Marion. You did it real smart. I wish to hell I was still alive so you could tell me what you did with the professor man’s body…

The clanging of the bell on the deck below snatched my attention away-a good thing. This was the third time I’d read the letter, but the first time I’d felt an uncomfortable surge of emotion. I was ridiculously close to tears.

I went to the porch, holding the towel around my waist, thinking, What the hell, this is the tropics, and looked down into the smiling face of a good-looking woman dressed for business-dark skirt, white blouse, dark blazer.

“Welcome to Sanibel,” I called to her. “Ready to de-ice?”

The woman had a sense of humor, thank God. She laughed. “Looks like you already have, Dr. Ford. But the only ice I want is in a tall glass-I hope I’m not being presumptuous.”

I said, “Not at all. I’ve heard your voice so often on the phone, Senator, it’ll be nice to talk face-to-face.”