Kiss and Kill by Richard Deming

Author:Richard Deming
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: relazioni
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2017-10-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER X

I MET MAVIS at the station when she came in from Chicago. We both kept our expressions appropriately sad, but when I gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek for the benefit of station onlookers, deep in her green eyes I could detect the suppressed relief she always felt when we neared the end of a deal.

Even in her ordinary dress Mavis had never been a beautiful woman so much as a desirable one. Except for sensually full lips, her features were too thin for real beauty. Yet properly clothed in the extremely feminine clothes she loved, she could start any man’s pulse hammering.

As she was now, though, no man would have looked at her twice. Her tailored suit gave her a neat appearance, but it effectively hid the soft lines of her body. The prim way in which her sleek black hair was drawn back tightly gave her face a thin, bony appearance entirely missing when she wore it loose. Her stiff walk, lacking even the slightest hip sway, plus a total absence of makeup, completed the illusion that she was an eminently respectable and uninteresting spinster.

I had trained her well. She was no longer the amateur thespian she had been when we met. Now, in any part I set for her, she could put on as convincing a performance as any top actress.

I knew she was dying to ask how things had gone so far, but all she said was, “I’m terribly sorry, Sam.”

The loungers at the station, watching us, nodded sympathetically.

Mavis didn’t even ask any questions when we got back to the house. Even in privacy I insisted on preserving appearances. Once during dinner she did look at me somewhat pleadingly, but when I merely said, “Later,” she let it drop.

In a town of only three thousand, there isn’t much choice of funeral homes. I wouldn’t have picked Jackson’s otherwise, because Lyman Jackson was as curious about other people’s business as an old woman. But he happened to run the only funeral parlor in town.

After dinner I took Mavis with me when I went to keep my appointment with Jackson. The plump, benign-looking funeral director courteously showed us to chairs in his office and seated himself behind a discreetly expensive desk.

“I can’t begin to express my sorrow for your tragic loss, Mr. Henshaw,” he said unctuously, then turned grave eyes on Mavis. “I know your sister by sight, of course, but I don’t believe we’ve ever been formally introduced.”

“Oh,” I said. “Sorry. My sister Mavis, Mr. Jackson.”

“How do you do?” Mavis asked politely.

“A pleasure, Miss Henshaw.” His attention reverted to me. “I think first we should discuss the date and time of the funeral. Later, if you feel up to it, I’ll show you our casket display and we’ll talk over the type of funeral you wish. Or, if you prefer, we’ll postpone that business until tomorrow.”

I said, “I’d rather get everything settled tonight. I’d like the funeral as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Jackson said, benignly placing his palms together.

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