Did You Declare the Corpse? by Patricia Sprinkle Read Free Book Online Page A

meal for your first day out, but they’ll all be better from now on, I promise.”

    Before we left for the airport, I dragged my bag to one side and took out Joe Riddley’s gift. It wasn’t jewelry—it was several bills of a denomination that widened my eyes.

    I hurried outside and gave him a call. “Buy yourself something pretty to remember the trip by,” he told me. “I love you, Little Bit. Come back safely.”

    I went to the ladies’ room and permitted myself one short weep. Then I fixed my face and headed back to the group. I was determined to have a good time on this trip, if it killed me.

    Not that I ever expected that it almost would . . .

5

    In the airport shuttle bus, Brandi confided, “Jimmy is on the board of an airline, so we’ve been upgraded to first class.”

    As soon as we stepped inside the airport, they were whisked away by a lacquered blonde in uniform and we didn’t see them again until we boarded the plane. Then we got a real good view of them sipping complimentary drinks up front while the rest of us headed back to steerage. As Mama used to say, “There are some things money can’t buy, but the more money you have, the fewer they are.”

    The rest of us went through security in a clump, with Joyce bringing up the rear, checking her notebook and counting heads at every bend to make sure nobody had strayed. We eventually began to complain, as people tend to do, wondering out loud why civilized, intelligent North Americans aren’t rising up en masse to protest security processes that do little to deter terrorists, but harass and humiliate harmless citizens. Then Kenny pointed out, “When our ancestors came from Scotland, they were crammed seven hundred or more onto rickety ships designed to hold five hundred. They had too little food, sour water, and a real good chance of dying from cholera or dysentery before they landed. I guess we can put up with a little bit of standing in line.”

    “You are such a party pooper,” Sherry said acidly.

    But Laura said, “Kenny’s right. We came on this trip to have a good time, so what difference does it make if we spend the next hour sitting in a waiting area or standing here? We might as well have fun starting now.”

    After that she, Dorothy, Marcia, and I had a real good chat while Sherry instructed Joyce on what we should have been told in order to get through security faster. Kenny read a dog-eared book entitled The Highland Clearances that looked like he’d read it several times before.

    However, we were in that line a very long time.

    By the time it was my turn to dump my carry-on and purse into bins and walk through the metal detector, I was in no mood to obey an officious guard who told me to remove my shoes and walk across that filthy floor in sock feet. I am not a terrorist, I am a judge. I’d worn those shoes through several airports and knew there was no metal in them, and I had no idea what foot diseases the last hundred people might have left behind. “Let’s try the shoes and see if they beep,” I suggested politely. “If they do, I’ll take them off and go through again.”

    In thirty seconds flat I was being wanded up the body, down the body, under the arms, along the inside of my legs, and under the shoes, then I was patted all over. The woman who had been summoned to work me over kept murmuring, in a thick Eastern European accent, that she was sorry to be doing this. I was dying to ask if this didn’t remind her of the worst days of Communism, but hated to get arrested and have to explain to my grandchildren why I hadn’t gone to Scotland. I couldn’t help snapping at the end, though, “This is enough to make radicals of us all.” I got a small smile of what I am certain was agreement.

    By the time we finally got on the plane, I was actually happy that Laura and I weren’t sitting together, for I had an empty seat between me and the aisle and I sleep well on planes. When the lights dimmed I lifted the