Fowl Prey by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online Page A

Alabama by the window. Out on Prince Albert Bay, the lights from a dozen freighters shone in the clear autumn night air as their captains awaited pilots to guide them into the inner harbor. Spud was carrying two glasses of mineral water and spilling one of them on the deep pile of the carpet as he bumped into a chrome and leather footstool.
    â€œHere, sweetie, no cream soda. Will this do?” He handed the full glass to Evelyn and gave her a puppylike look.
    Evelyn wore a faintly weary air. “Of course, if it’s all there is in the nonalcoholic line.” She raised the tall glass at Judith and Renie. “Spud and I don’t drink. My father died of cirrhosis of the liver when he was thirty-nine. My mother died of a broken heart six months later.”
    â€œThat’s why Evelyn became an agent,” interjected Spud, draping an arm around his wife’s neck. He saw Evelyn’s lifted eyebrow and revamped the statement: “I mean, she had to quit college and go to work. She was with William Morris when we got married, then she started up her own agency, didn’t you, sweetie?”
    â€œSo it seems,” responded Evelyn with a resigned expression. ‘’The truth is,” she said to Judith and Renie, “I quit to have our first child. Then a couple of clients—no names, please—who were unhappy with the Morris agency asked me to represent them. Of course I always was Spud’sagent. Now Desiree is with me and Jonathan and Clea and several other big names. Mostly New York, though I have a few clients in London and L.A.” She summed up her career with the same brisk efficiency that she used to brush a piece of lint from her deep blue crepe dress.
    â€œImpressive,” remarked Judith, thinking that Evelyn Frobisher’s polished, no-nonsense manner was totally different from her husband’s ah-shucks, down-home persona. “What about Alabama Smith?”
    Evelyn’s gaze traveled across the room to where the playwright was now engaged in a heated discussion with Birdwell de Smoot. “Alabama is a writer. Ergo, he has a literary agent.” She smirked. “If I were Birdwell, I wouldn’t stand too close to that window. It’s a long drop to Empress Drive.”
    â€œBirdie would bounce,” said Desiree, sidling up to Evelyn and Spud. “Listen, Ev, one more role like the Queen of Thrace, and I’ll put you out there with him. That’s the last time I play a part wearing a costume made out of furnace filters. Let’s get a little more selective, hmmm?” The green eyes glinted at Evelyn, then shifted to Max, who appeared to be refereeing between Alabama and Birdwell. “Maybe I should start sleeping with Max again. The best parts I ever had were under him. So to speak.” The heavy eyelids and thick lashes dipped in a sly, langorous motion. Spud actually blushed.
    â€œGolly, Desiree, you wouldn’t want to upset Maria! She and Max have been married a long time now.” He sounded quite stern, like a Sunday school teacher lecturing preschoolers in a little church on the prairie.
    â€œOh, cut the corn, Spud!” snapped Desiree, coming out of her indolent state. “I was married to Max almost as long as Maria has been. We still work well together.” Her crimson mouth twitched slightly. “In many ways.”
    â€œAt least you’re all friendly,” Evelyn put in, watching her husband turn an even deeper red. “Usually.”
    â€œSure,” said Desiree is that husky voice. “I suppose what I ought to do is inspire my brilliant pork rind fromBrilliant to write something to showcase my talents. That’s assuming he can still write at all. I’m getting sick of defending that stupid bingo turkey.” Her green gaze cut across the room like a laser just as Alabama grabbed Birdwell by the lapels and shook him violently. “Oh, damn!” exclaimed Desiree, grasping her