Scones and Scoundrels by Molly Macrae

Author:Molly Macrae
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Pegasus Books
Published: 2017-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

15

During the split second Janet was airborne, she knew that if she were a braver person, or more practiced at sneaking and skulking, she would be able to turn upon landing, greet the throat clearer with a confident smile, and say something pleasant or disarming. Instead, she witnessed one of Christine’s transformations. Elizabeth II turned with a frosty look to quell any further coughs directed toward them. It fell with full force on Janet’s neighbor, Ian Atkinson.

“Ian.” Janet patted her heart back into place. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people that way.”

“Nice evening,” Ian said, taking a step back. “For clandestine casing, I mean.” He’d met Christine’s eyes and quickly looked away, but Janet saw them shift again, and now he was looking over her shoulder. “There go Christine and Maida.”

“What?” Janet whipped back around to see both of them creeping in the most obvious way possible up Daphne’s back steps. “Oh, for—Christine!” Janet didn’t call her name nearly loud enough to be heard.

“It’s all right,” Ian said. “Daphne isn’t home. She left quarter of an hour ago with her dog and a young fellow in her expedition vehicle. Do you suppose she’s planning a quest of some sort? And what are they looking for?” He nodded toward Christine and Maida.

Daphne isn’t home. Those three words gave Janet strength. The strength to lie. “I think they just didn’t want to startle the dog, Ian. We decided to stop by to, you know, see how Daphne and Rachel Carson are settling in. Let them know where the fuse box is, that kind of thing.” Janet smiled and wondered if such a thing as a fuse box existed in Maida’s house.

Ian winked.

Janet looked back toward the house. Christine and Maida crowded the stoop, faces pressed to the window in the back door.

“Oh, gosh, wouldn’t you know it? The doorbell must be on the fritz,” Janet said quickly. “I’ll go let them know Daphne isn’t home after all. Thanks for stopping by, Ian. See you.”

Janet smiled again, but only until she’d turned her back on Ian, then she tried her best not to run down her garden path and up Daphne’s. Christine was now stretching up, trying to get a look in another window.

“Just a little higher, Christine,” Maida was saying.

“Christine, stop it,” Janet said. “For heaven’s sake, we have a witness. Maida, stop encouraging her. Do you both want to spend the night in jail?”

“Nothing illegal about fresh air exercises, Janet,” Maida said.

At this, Christine turned around and did half a dozen jumping jacks and then bent to touch her toes. Janet closed her eyes.

“You can open your eyes now. He’s gone,” Maida said. “Yon glaikit lump.”

“Maida!” Janet said, surprised to hear her speak so rudely about Ian, for whom she occasionally worked. Maida might have been surprised, too. She coughed until Christine gave her a few thumps between her shoulder blades.

“Ian’s a … a good neighbor,” Janet said.

“A neighbor of some sort, anyway,” Christine said.

“A neighbor who was kind enough to overlook your suspicious behavior.

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