Grime And Punishment: A Jane Jeffry Mystery - Plot & Excerpts
But on the phone she'd been shrill, nearly hysterical. As Jane raced across the driveways and into the Nowacks' kitchen door, Shelley met her, wringing her hands and looking like death. Her face could have been painted white. “I can't have heard you right," Jane panted. "She's dead, Jane. It's horrible." “Did you call the police and an ambulance?" “Not yet. An ambulance won't help her." “You don't know that, Shelley. It might be a heart attack or something. Maybe she just looks dead." “Jane, believe me—" Shelley turned away and put her hand over her mouth, retching. Jane ran up the stairs, skidding to a halt just inside the door to the guest room. She suddenly realized what Shelley meant. The cleaning lady was lying sprawled beside the bed, just inside the doorway. Feet toward the door, face down, her head was turned sideways, and what Jane could see was sickening. The woman's skin was a mottled purple, her eyes bulged, and some- thing fat and purplish and repulsive was sticking out of her mouth.
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