"12 - Murder@Maggody(dot)com" - читать интересную книгу автора (12 - Murder@Maggody(dot)com)

I glanced at Justin, who was blinking nervously. "Don't worry about local politics," I said to him. "In a town this size, issues take on a certain intensity. You should have been here when Ruby Bee switched from popcorn to pretzels for happy hour. I arrested three good ol' boys, and she threw twice that many out on their butts. Now, if you'll excuse us, we all need to be on our way. That includes you, Estelle."

Lottie was trying to explain realities to Justin as I managed to herd Ruby Bee and Estelle out into the hall. I was about to ask about the easiest route out of the building when Daniel and Leona Holliflecker cut us off.

They were a bland couple in their mid-fifties, definitely not the sort to drink a few beers on a Friday afternoon or come dancing on a Saturday night. He had some kind of middle-management job at the poultry-processing plant in Starley City; she was a minor force in the Missionary Society at the Assembly Hall and a tireless champion of conservative dogma, such as school prayer and creation science. Our paths rarely crossed, which was okay with me.

"Ruby Bee, Estelle," Leona said, ignoring yours truly, "I want you to meet my niece. She's staying with us for the time being." She pushed forward a gaunt girl with oversized, panicky eyes and black hair that hung past the middle of her back. "This is Gwynnie Patchwood, my brother's eldest. She's hoping to find a parttime job. Gwynnie, say hello to Miz Hanks and Miz Oppers."

Gwynnie gave us a brittle smile. "Pleased to meet you. I sure am happy to be here in Maggody. If you ever need somebody to do some cleaning or run errands, I don't have anything else to do. Whatever you want to pay me is all right."

"I believe, Gwynnie," said Daniel, "that the law dictates minimum wage. Please do not act as if you're being forced into servitude simply because Leona and I expect you to contribute to the household expenses."

"Shouldn't you be in school?" asked Estelle.

"You don't look a day over fifteen," added Ruby Bee. "Daniel here was on the school board a few years back. I'd like to think he understands the importance of education." Leona stepped in front of Gwynnie. "She's seventeen, not fifteen. She had to drop out of school, so we agreed to take her in until things get settled. If you find it in your hearts to offer her an hour or two of work every now and then, she'll be grateful. She is not, however, looking for charity." She looked at Daniel. "I'd like to get on home. No matter what you and Gwynnie say, Jessie Traylor is not my idea of a reliable person."

"I agree with you, Ruby Bee," said Daniel, "but it's too complicated to explain. Gwynnie's working on her GED. I'm hoping these evening computer classes will motivate her to take classes at the community college in Starley City."

Ruby Bee smiled at the girl. "I'll sure keep you in mind, honey. I've been thinking about cleaning out the pantry. It's a big job."

Gwynnie nodded, then trudged off between Daniel and Leona, her shoulders hunched as though a guillotine was awaiting her at the end of the hallway.

"Kinda sickly, ain't she?" said Estelle as we followed at a polite distance. "What she needs is a dusting of blusher and a delicate touch of mascara. She'd look like one of those cover girls on Seventeen magazine. Big eyes, wide mouth. Maybe I'll just call her to help me reorganize my cosmetics shelf, then offer to fix her up. It's real sad to think of her spending all her days and nights at the Hollifleckers' place."

Ruby Bee shook her head. "I've seen her a time or two with some of the girls, but I'll bet she hasn't been going to the dances and parties."

Both of them looked at me.

"Wait just a minute," I said, holding up my hands. "I am not going to get Cinderella a date to the prom. This may be hard to swallow, but I am not dearly beloved by the local teenagers. My car is egged on a monthly basis. Last week some clown put a very dead squirrel under the hood and I came damn near throwing up when I turned on the engine. Either of you is free to assume the role of her social secretary; heaven knows you've had enough practice on me."

On that high-minded note, I went out into the crisp, cool spring night and drove to Farberville in hopes of an adequately entertaining movie, a box of oily popcorn, a watery soda, and an evening's respite from the two busiest bodies in Maggody.





2





"You were out late last night," Ruby Bee said as I walked into the barroom the following afternoon. It was not a mild observation, but something more akin to the opening statement of a prosecuting attorney bent on obtaining the death penalty. "What's more, I called the PD three times this morning-that's three times, in case you aren't listening-and you weren't there. Is there something going on that I should know about? You seeing a man on the sly? Is he married and you're ashamed to admit it? Is he getting a divorce from his wife? Are there children involved? How old are they?"

Estelle was perched on her favorite stool at the end of the bar, situated conveniently near the ladies room and allowing her a panoramic view of the dance floor and booths along the wall. "Ruby Bee was so worried that she wanted to call Sheriff Dorfer, but I talked her out of it-this time, anyway. You have no business causing your own mother to stew like a mess of turnip greens. She's liable to get ulcers like poor Collera Buchanon. You remember what happened to him, doncha?"

"I'm already feeling twinges," said Ruby Bee, squeezing out a tear for optimum impact. "The next thing you know, I'll be in intensive care with a tube in my nose. Maybe I'd better get to work on my obituary while I still have the strength. Once they put needles in me, I won't be able to lift my hand."

There'd been an incident in which such a thing had happened, but I doubted we were in danger of a relapse brought on by my failure to keep them supplied with my itinerary. "What did happen to Collera?" I asked as I chose a stool at the opposite end of the bar.