Fowl Prey by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online

his thick glasses, he turned sharp dark eyes up to Judith and Renie. “Who are you? What do you do? Act? Write? Sing?” Before either cousin could answer, he was on his feet. “Never mind. I need a drink.”
    Maria extended a graceful arm, as if to haul him back. “Birdwell, dearest…” Ignoring his hostess, the little man zeroed in on the makeshift bar, which stood in front of a mirror decorated with a frosted leopard motif. Maria turned to Judith. “Birdwell’s rather difficult, but most critics are. There, my dears, Max has your drinks.”
    Max did, with scotch for Judith and rye for Renie. He also had Mildred trailing after him. “Max,” she inquired in her whiny voice, “are the hors d’oeuvres satisfactory? Should I get more liquor? Is there something I can fetch you?”
    Ever courtly, Max took her hand. “Everything’s wonderful, Mildred, as always. You’ve met Maria’s friends?” His expansive smile took in not only Mildred, but his wife and the cousins as well. “Without Mildred,” he asserted, patting her limp hand, “my life would be chaos.” Hebeamed down on his assistant, whose answering smile was halfhearted. Maria maintained her gracious exterior, though Judith could have sworn that the briefest of daggers had passed between the two women.
    â€œMax is so modest,” said Mildred in that whining voice. “He brought me out of nowhere.”
    â€œActually,” put in Desiree, who had risen from the sofa and come to join them, “it was Cleveland. Same thing, though, isn’t it, Mildred?” She gave a toss of the copper mane and a shrug of emerald-green satin.
    â€œAt least it wasn’t Brilliant, Alabama.” Mildred’s small blue eyes finally came to life and darted a venomous look at the bearded playwright, who was studiously avoiding the little group and chewing thoughtfully on an anchovy. “Is it true, Desiree, that your husband got his start by writing an ode to Bear Bryant’s hat?”
    â€œThere was more drama in the Bear’s hat than in Alabama’s last play,” asserted Birdwell, who had somehow materialized between Renie and Mildred. Even with lifts on his shoes, Birdwell barely came to Judith’s chin. Fascinated, she stared down at the top of his bald head and had an intense desire to spit.
    â€œRot,” replied Desiree, fitting a green cigarette into a long holder and deliberately waving it in Birdwell’s indignant face, “ G-52 is a marvelous work. It’s the first time anyone has explored the social and theological implications of bingo in the Catholic Church.”
    â€œBirdie’s a Presbyterian, remember?” Max’s smooth voice should have had the effect of balm, but instead, Desiree laughed derisively and Birdwell snorted loudly.
    The exchange was cut short, however, by the arrival of Spud Frobisher and a svelte woman with brown hair fitted close to her head like a cap. “Well, look at all these swell people! Are we having fun or what? ” demanded Spud, long arms spread out to embrace the entire room. “Evelyn, we gotta get to drinking and catch up with the rest of them. How about a cream soda?”
    â€œHow about piping down,” murmured his wife. Witha resigned sigh, she gave Spud a little push toward the bar, then allowed Max to kiss her cheek and Maria to offer a stilted hug. “You must be Judith and her cousin, Serena,” said Evelyn Frobisher, not wasting time with proper introductions. “You made Spud five minutes late meeting me this afternoon.”
    Judith was about to apologize when she noticed the glint of amusement in Evelyn’s hazel eyes. “We had thirty years to cover,” Judith said with a smile. “I guess it took more than five minutes.”
    The others were drifting away, Birdwell still arguing with Desiree, Mildred plying Max with canapes, and Maria joining