Rear-View Murder: A Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery by Willow Monroe Page A

her pictures away in a drawer as if she was already dead.”
    “Can I keep this one?” Gemma asked, holding onto the smaller photo.
    “Sure,” Natalie said. “Nobody will miss it.”
    Gemma’s heart ached for this broken family and especially for the young woman standing in front of her. “Listen, here’s my business card. If you ever need anything, someone to talk to, give me a call.”
    Natalie took the card, looked at it briefly. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, the screen door squeaked open and her father stepped onto the porch again.
    “Natalie, we have to leave soon,” he said, looking at Gemma and Holly instead of his daughter.
    “We’re leaving now. Thank you for your time,” Holly said.
    “And, again, we’re so sorry about the death of your daughter,” Gemma told him. She wanted to say more but she knew from experience there were no words that would make dealing with the loss of his oldest daughter any easier.
    Back in the vehicle, Gemma stared straight out of the windshield, afraid that if she said a word, she’d start to cry. Crying would not help Opal. They’d been driving for about twenty minutes when Holly’s voice broke into Gemma’s thoughts. “So what are you going to do with her picture?”
    “I thought I’d give it to Detective Patterson. Maybe remind him that Opal was a person. Maybe remind him that his job is to protect and serve.”
    Holly barked a laugh. “Gemma, honey, I think he knows that and he knows that Opal was a person. You heard him. They’re overwhelmed.”
    “Then maybe we could help?” Gemma said, studying her best friend’s face for a reaction.
    “Help how?”
    “Show it around to some of her friends,” Gemma said with a shrug. “Maybe they’ll know something about the ring.”
    “Are you talking about investigating her death?” Holly asked, glancing from the road in surprise.
    “Her murder,” Gemma corrected her. “Opal was murdered and I need to know who did it and why.”
    Holly was quiet for a few minutes. “Gemma, you can’t put this family back together, no matter how hard you try.”

Chapter Eight
    “B ut I have to try. Just a little bit,” Gemma protested.
    “Gemma, are you crazy?” Holly squeaked. “Richmond is a big city and what you’re talking about doing is beyond dangerous.”
    “We’ll just talk to some of her friends and...”
    “Her friends were hookers and drug dealers and gang people. She probably had a...a...what do you call it?”
    “A pimp?” Gemma asked.
    A picture of a swaggering black man wearing a silk suit and a fedora popped into her head. He would be wearing lots of gold chains and he would be driving a Cadillac. Yes, she’d seen these men on TV or in the movies. They were always mean to their girls, took all their money and forced them to take drugs.
    “Yes. A pimp. These are scary people, Gemma. And they hang around a scary part of town.”
    “We’ll be careful,” Gemma promised. “All you have to do is let me out of the car, drive around the block and...”
    “No. Absolutely not,” Holly’s tone was sharp, the look on her face fiercely protective. “You are not going to go out onto the street alone like that.”
    “You look just like your mom right now,” Gemma told her.
    “I do not,” Holly shot back and then Gemma saw her take a peek in the mirror. “Okay maybe I do.”
    They were silent for the next few minutes. Gemma watched the scenery fly by until she saw a sign for a diner up ahead. Sadie’s Place sounded good. “Let’s stop and eat. I’m starving.”
    The gravel crunched under their feet as they crossed the empty parking lot. A little bell over the door tinkled announcing their arrival. Once inside, Gemma felt as if she had taken a step backwards in time. It was a small diner with a black and white checkered floor and an old-fashioned juke box right near the door. A stainless steel counter dominated the room, with stools upholstered in red leather. Three tables filled