A Good Year for a Corpse by Valerie Wolzien

Author:Valerie Wolzien [Wolzien, Valerie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2019-09-25T22:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

“But why would he admit to having an affair with Olive Spinoza if it isn’t true?”

“Now, hon, you know how those two men have been competing for years. Isn’t it possible that Shirley and Ralph had an affair—which would be a major point for Ralph in this stupid game of one-upmanship that the two of them play—and claiming to have seduced Olive is the only way Bob can achieve match point?”

Susan and Jed were sipping decaf cappuccino in his study. Chad had vanished to a friend’s house immediately after dinner. Chrissy was still out, and Susan suspected that her husband’s willingness to risk the inferno their imported cappuccino maker spewed forth was more an attempt to distract her than a real desire for the brew. Susan was determined to ignore her daughter’s absence. They would have time to discuss her behavior on the way to Boston. She reached for a needlepoint pillow to tuck into the small of her back.

“Damn! I don’t believe this!” She shook the pillow under her husband’s nose.

“What’s wrong?” Jed protected his cup from flying kapok.

“The dog chewed a hole in this. I spent an entire summer working this pattern. She’s not supposed to be alone in this room.”

The puppy, lying contentedly at Jed’s feet, seemed to recognize her part in Susan’s distress and ducked her head under the chair.

“She’s just a puppy, hon. She doesn’t know any better.”

“I know.” Susan frowned. “I’m just a little stressed out these days.”

“Maybe you should stop worrying about this murder.…”

“No, the murder investigation is keeping me sane. At least I can do something. Everything else I’m worrying about is out of my hands.” She sighed. “‘Where did I put my purse?”

“I think I saw it next to the telephone in the kitchen. Would you like me to get it for you?”

“No. I’ll do it. I’m hungry. I really wish I could learn not to eat when I’m worried.…” she muttered, leaving the room.

Jed absentmindedly reached down to pet the puppy; the animal was happily teething on the sleeve of his Brooks Brothers oxford cloth when Susan returned. “Do you want her to do that?” she asked, pointing at the dog.

“Oh, shit. Stop that!” There was a ripping sound as he jerked his arm away.

“Give her this,” Susan suggested, offering a homemade gingersnap. “It probably tastes better than your shirt.”

“Isn’t that rewarding her for chewing on clothing?”

“I don’t think she connects things that well,” Susan answered as the puppy fell at her feet, apparently too delighted with the unexpected treat to remain standing. “I want to read you something,” she continued, displaying a paperback.

“Anything; it’s about time we agreed on a name.”

“Oh.” Susan opened the dog-naming book. “I wasn’t thinking of dog names. I’ve been writing notes on the blank pages at the back of the book. Do you mind if I go over the things that are bugging me about all this?”

“Go ahead,” Jed agreed, rightly interpreting “all this” to mean the murder investigation.

But she read for a few minutes before speaking.

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