"Esther M. Friesner - How to Make Unicorn Pie" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

Yes, she was the descendant of that Bowman. And yes, she was living in what: the

Victorians referred to as genteel poverty. Whatever mite of income she derived

from her ancestors' surviving investments needs must be eked out by the sale of

apple pies to the coffee shop. This was one of those cold, hard facts that

everyone knew and no one mentioned. A Mafia don brought up to follow the

steel-jacketed code of silence, omerta, is a harebrained blabbermouth next to a

resident of Bowman's Ridge who's got something not to say.



"Look, it's nothing," I said. "I may not know her, but I certainly don't want to

get her in w ,,
"Trouble?" Muriel finished for me. She sighed. "Babs, you want to know the

meaning of the word? That thing you just found in your pie, what do you think

would've happened if someone else had found it?"



"Not much. Everyone around here knows Greta Marie and no one would say anything

that would--"



"Think that goes for the Summer People?"



Na-na-na-naaaaah. Cue the sinister chords on the pipe organ. The only critters

lower on the Bowman's Ridge food chain than Transients are Summer People. I

don't know why the Natives despise them so. They are the single best thing to

happen to the local economy since maple-leaf-shaped anything. They swarm up here

every June, July and August, with a recurring infection come leaf-peeping time,

and pay top dollar to stay in spare rooms that would otherwise be mold

sanctuaries. They attend church bazaars and rummage sales, fighting to the death