Hare Today, Dead Tomorrow

Author:Cynthia Baxter [Baxter, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Detectives, Women Sleuths, Murder, Private Investigators, Women Veterinarians, Popper; Jessica (Fictitious Character), Wine and Wine Making
ISBN: 9780739468128
Google: IV2vgk6lxRgC
Amazon: 0553588435
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2005-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“He lives in the halflights in secret places, free and alone, this mysterious little great being whom his mistress calls, My cat . . .”

—Margaret Benson

Realizing the intruder inside my car was made of wood, rather than flesh and bone, didn’t do much to alleviate my discomfort. Neither did the fact that he was once again dressed like somebody’s prom date instead of something threatening like a kung fu fighter or a WWF wrestler. In fact, anything at all that was related to Ethan Thorndike automatically increased a situation’s creepiness factor by at least a hundred.

I opened the door and grabbed Ethan’s version of Mini-Me by the armpits.

“Okay, Woody,” I muttered. “I don’t consider myself a violent person, but I’m beginning to harbor fantasies of turning you into a pile of toothpicks.”

“I don’t think he likes that,” a male voice said. “Being handled so roughly, I mean.”

I wasn’t particularly surprised to turn around and find that Ethan was standing behind me. Uncomfortably close, as it turned out. This guy sure didn’t seem to know much about boundaries. Of any sort.

“Then he shouldn’t go around breaking into people’s cars,” I told him.

Ethan smiled eerily. “I was just playing around with you, Dr. Popper.”

“I already figured that out.”

He shrugged. “I can’t help it if I happen to be good at picking locks and getting into places where I don’t belong.”

I was about to ask him the obvious question—why he would even want to break into my car and leave behind such a peculiar calling card—when he added, “Looks like that’s a talent you have as well.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.” I could feel my cheeks getting hot, a sure sign that they were turning the same shade of red as my VW.

“Tsk-tsk,” Ethan replied. “Dr. Popper, you’ve been such a naughty girl. Breaking and entering. Isn’t that what the cops call it? Or maybe there’s an even more serious charge that would apply in this situation. Something along the lines of tampering with a crime scene.”

“I did no such thing!” I insisted indignantly. Instinctively I stuck my hand into my pocket, fingering the rolls of undeveloped film I’d stashed there. I hoped that Ethan’s wooden dummy was the only one around here whose nose was likely to grow longer from lying.

“Speaking of tampering with a crime scene, I don’t suppose you ran into Joan in there,” Ethan continued. “Or as I like to call her, Step-Mommie Dearest.”

Since I’d clearly been caught in the act, I didn’t see any point in pretending. “There’s no one inside. And I can assure you that the only reason I went into your sister’s house is that I’m trying to find out who’s responsible for her death.”

“Then I suggest you look no further than our own close-knit, loving family,” he said bitterly.

I just stared at him. “Ethan,” I finally said, “I’m sure both you and your sister had a difficult childhood. It’s tragic that you lost your mother at such a young age. And I know that getting used to a stepmother isn’t easy for anyone.

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