Murder Takes a Dare: The First Marisa Adair Mystery Adventure (Marisa Adair Mysteries Book 1) by Jada Ryker Page A

cushioned from the more unpleasant aspects of life.”
    Marisa opened her mouth to speak, but Althea, her prominent cheekbones flushed with the vibrancy of her rising passion, forestalled her words by grasping her cold hand.
    “Can you feel the warmth and pressure of my hand? It might be old, knobby, and weak, but the body it’s attached to is still very much alive and the brain functions just as well today as it did thirty years ago. Please, my dear, don’t close off your life to me, thinking it’s too unpleasant for me. I want—” Her low voice broke and the color drained from her cheeks, leaving them pale and vulnerable. “No, I need to be a part of your life, good and bad. I know how hard it was for you to tell me about your addiction to alcohol and painkillers, and I know you felt it was an incredible weakness on your part to have to go to rehab. No, my dear—” Marisa tried to look away in shame, but Althea gripped her chin and forced her to meet her eyes. “—it wasn’t weakness at all, it took great strength for you to do it. I am so proud of you. We made it through that…don’t shut me out now.”
    Her eyes prickling with hot tears of shame, Marisa turned her palm upward to clasp Althea’s thin hand. “I’m sorry, Althea, you deserve more than what I’m giving you. You were there for me when I was a child. You opened your home and your heart, and you showed me love.”
    “Marisa, you know you don’t owe me allegiance.”
    Blinking away the tears, Marisa gently squeezed the older woman’s hand. “You have my love, Althea, freely given.”
    “And freely reciprocated, no debt on either side, my dear.”
    Marisa glanced over her shoulder, and noticed the bleary eyes of the resident locked on her face. With the golden fountain still running beneath her as she slumped against the seatbelt of her wheelchair, she seemed to be staring in their direction. It was difficult to tell if the bloodshot orbs were trained on them or inward at some long ago event dredged from a shaky old memory. “Let’s move over to the bench at the edge of the patio, and I’ll tell you the whole story.”
    Sometime later, Althea sat in the dusk of the summer evening, thinking about her friend’s story. She turned on the metal bench to meet the younger woman’s troubled eyes. “What do you think Jonah was trying to tell you?”
    “I just don’t know, Althea. I’ve gone over it so many times in my own mind, and of course with the police, it’s left me numb and bewildered.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “Jonah lived life on the edge. He made his living by collecting information, then either selling it to the highest bidder, or accepting money to keep it secret.”
    Althea brushed away the glittering tear on her friend’s cheek with a gentle finger. “It sounds as if his dangerous lifestyle caught up with him. Someone didn’t want to pay him to keep him quiet, or risk him telling anyone what he knew. He or she could have killed Jonah to keep him quiet, for good.”
    Marisa turned her cold cheek into Althea’s comforting palm. “It makes sense, Althea. But what did he know?”
    Althea sighed. “We may never find out, my dear.” Althea’s hand flew to her mouth. “Marisa, Jonah’s grandmother passed away this morning.”
    Startled, Marisa jumped up from the bench. “Jonah’s grandmother died the same day he did? My God, do you think there could be a connection?”
    Since her room was near Jonah’s grandmother’s room, Althea had overheard the argument that morning between the angry old woman and her grandson.  Althea related to Marisa all she knew about the encounter.
    Could Jonah’s grandmother have been murdered as well? Was the old lady silenced because she knew too much? Or was her death merely a freakish coincidence? Was Althea in danger? Marisa’s hand tightened on Althea’s thin fingers.
    Althea sniffed in outrage. “Can you believe the disgusting flock of elderly hens chasing after that