18 Deader Homes and Gardens by Joan Hess

Author:Joan Hess [Hess, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Bookish, Cozy
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2012-02-14T05:00:00+00:00

9

I walked down the road to my car, dug my keys out of my pocket, and glanced at the house that would fade away in a quagmire of legal fights and probate hearings. A light shone in the library, a light that I had not turned on earlier. I was too exhausted to rally much enthusiasm as I went to the porch and tried the front door. It was locked. However, that had not kept Moses from going inside whenever he wished. I continued around the house to the French doors, which were conveniently unlocked. As I entered, I heard a female voice muttering rather vulgar expletives.

Angela might have returned, I thought cautiously, or Esther might have emerged from her hideout in the basement. The latter was a stretch. Peter had examined the wine cellar. If he’d found a one-cell apartment, he would have at least commented on it. Furthermore, it was an absurd idea brought on by desperation and mental fatigue. The house had been remodeled three years ago. Esther was not the contemporary prisoner of Zenda, nor had she a reason to dawdle in Hollow Valley for fifteen years.

I went down the hall to the library and was astounded to find Pandora Butterfly sitting in the leather chair behind the desk, her feet propped on a rung of the ladder. Her kimono had been replaced by short shorts and a semitransparent blouse that allowed observers to note her lack of anything underneath it. A glass of red wine was next to an ashtray with a smoldering cigarette. She looked up at me with slitted eyes, then deftly closed her cell phone. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“An excellent question. I have no reasonable explanation for being here. What about you?”

“I needed some privacy.” She realized that I was staring at the ashtray. “It’s not pot, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s an organic cigarette, made with additive-free natural tobacco.”

“That’s good to know. Shouldn’t you be out communing with nature beneath the starry sky?”

“I told you that I needed some privacy. The children can track my scent, so the only way to escape is to come over here. They’re afraid to cross the blacktop. I warned them that Dearg Due, an Irish vampire, prowls the woods for children. When he catches one, he sucks its blood. Whatever works. If you don’t mind, I’d like to enjoy the solitude for a few more minutes.” She blew a stream of smoke at me.

I sat down in a leather armchair and said, “As long as we’re here, let me ask you a question. Have you seen any unfamiliar cars in the driveway?”

“I pay no heed to the mindless monstrosities from Detroit. They’re nothing but crass metal cages for those who care nothing for the environment. They growl and spew noxious fumes into the air.”

“So you walked here from the ashram in California?” I asked. “I’m impressed with your commitment to the environment. You might want to have a word with your husband about those delivery trucks.

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