Death Of A Dream Maker by Katy Munger Read Free Book Online Page A

sparkled.
Max had lived in a large stone house situated on a quiet corner. It
was ringed with enthusiastically blooming holly bushes that formed
a thick hedge reaching to the bottom of the first-floor
windows.
    T.S. drove past the house, hoping to snag a parking
spot from an early-departing mourner. They could see the shadows of
guests moving behind the living room curtains. T.S. knew Auntie Lil
was aching to peek through them, but didn't want to push her luck.
They were conspicuous enough as it was.
    “Just what are we attempting to find out?” T.S.
asked. “We can't keep circling the block all day.”
    “I want to know which family members come to the home
and who stays away.”
    “That's easy. They're all here. Gorging themselves on
free food and booze.”
    “No.” Auntie Lil shook her head firmly. “Remember the
young man and young woman dressed in a much more restrained manner
than the others? Neither of them has arrived.”
    T.S. turned the corner. Ahead, a neighbor's house was
clearly empty, the windows dark and drapes drawn. He backed into
the driveway so that he and Auntie Lil had an excellent view of the
Rosenbloom house.
    They watched as late arrivals scurried inside. Auntie
Lil sighed and pulled out a white handkerchief from the cavernous
depths of her purse. She dabbed at her forehead and sighed again.
“I do believe today is the wettest day I have ever seen.”
    Suddenly the moistness seemed to press in on T.S.
like a sponge. The car felt like a hothouse. Soon he felt a
terrible need to go to the bathroom. It reminded him of first grade
and the rigid boarding school that he'd attended. He'd been too
afraid to raise his hand and request permission from the scowling
Jesuit. He had suffered in silence instead.
    “I have to go to the bathroom,” he announced grimly.
“I warned you. All this rain...”
    “Go in the bushes,” Auntie Lil suggested without a
glance. It was not an elegant solution, but she did not look in the
mood to discuss alternatives. T.S. checked out the roadway. The
flow of arrivals had stopped. There were no neighbors in sight. It
might be safe. But what if he were caught? Or cornered by a
snarling dog? He could be arrested for indecent exposure, his whole
life ruined... But if other men did it, so could he.
    Though it was a blow to his fastidious standards,
T.S. hopped from the car and slipped into a neighboring yard, where
he was hidden by a thick bower of tree limbs. When he returned,
Auntie Lil was gone.
    She had tricked him. Muttering an uncharacteristic
curse, T.S. crept into the Rosenbloom yard. Keeping close to the
edge of the thick holly hedge, he tiptoed under the living room
windows and slipped around to the side of the house farthest from
the street corner. A row of trees delineating the yard from the
neighbor's lot provided a thin hiding space. He spotted her damp
footprints in the grass and, feeling like a cross between Sherlock
Holmes and a Peeping Tom, discovered her crouched behind a
particularly thick clump of holly bushes. She was peering into a
first-floor window and had chosen her position well. By leaning
forward, she could peek around the corner and through a wall of
French doors that enclosed a large rear porch. Guests moved about
the porch, chatting and holding drinks.
    “This was not part of the deal,” T.S. hissed softly.
The sharp edges of the holly leaves scraped at his face and one
branch insinuated itself under his jacket, tickling him just above
the waistband of his undershorts. When he tried to scratch it, he
bumped another wet limb and was showered with accumulated rain.
Auntie Lil, of course, remained perfectly dry and not the least bit
bothered by their junglelike surroundings.
    She waved for him to be quiet. Despite these demands
for discretion, her own whisper had the force of a jet taking off.
“Look at that! They call this sitting shiva? They're a disgrace to
the proud traditions of their people.” She motioned for T.S. to
take a look. He