Fowl Prey by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online Page B

emerald satin skirt and hurrying to her irate husband. “Put the little twerp down, ’Bama. Nobody reads his wretched stuff anyway!”
    â€œYou’re a bitch! He’s a liar!” Birdwell was turning blue. “I’m number one! There’s not a critic in North America who can touch me! Help!”
    â€œWell, Ah’m touchin’ you now, Birdie ol’ boy,” said Alabama, his carefully cultivated accent gone as he lifted the little man off the floor. “How would you like to go for a nice ol’ swim in Prince Albert Bay?”
    â€œMax! Maria! Help! I’m blind!” Birdwell’s glasses had fallen off into the clam dip. Max was grappling with Alabama while Maria tried to calm Birdwell. Mildred stood by the telephone, ready to summon reinforcements. Evelyn was concerned; Desiree, bemused. Judith and Renie edged toward the door, prepared to beat a hasty retreat to the Prince Albert Cafe.
    Spud lurched across the room, knocked a bottle of gin off the bar and smashed his shin on the coffee table, but still managed to reach Birdwell and Alabama before further harm could be done. Somehow circumventing Max Rothside, Spud picked the critic up in one hand and the playwright in the other.
    â€œHey, you guys, this is a party! We’re having fun! Look, you’ve ruined the ice sculpture!”
    Sure enough, the graceful swan, apparently carved in honor of Maria’s famous role, lay on its side with its head broken off. Birdwell was unmoved. Alabama, however, looked vaguely ashamed.
    â€œMy apologies, Maria. It was a pretty piece of ice.” He gave Birdwell a hard stare, then put out a hand. “Sorry, Birdie, but you get under a man’s skin. Back home, you’d have been lynched forty years ago.”
    Birdwell accepted the apology with bad grace. Spud released both men and slipped on the swan’s head, falling to the floor with a terrific thud. Evelyn rushed to his side, but her sympathy was perfunctory. “He falls down a lot,” she said to Judith over her shoulder. “If you knew him way back when, you probably remember.”
    Judith didn’t, exactly, but took the comment as her cue to depart with Renie. “This has been…interesting,” she said to a shaken Maria. “But Renie and I have a dinner reservation.”
    â€œIn Guam,” muttered Renie, surveying the damage wrought by falling bodies, melting ice, overturned furniture and spilled drinks. “Thanks a lot, have a nice day. ’Bye.”
    â€œBut wait!” Maria’s voice bordered on panic. She grabbed Judith’s hand and came so close their toes touched. “Judith,” she whispered, “I must talk to you. Alone. When will you be back from dinner?”
    Startled, Judith glanced at Renie, who was looking increasingly thunderous. “Well, um, I suppose around nine-thirty or so. Shall I ring your suite?”
    Maria’s padded shoulders slumped in relief. “Yes. No, I’ll ring yours. We have to feed these people.” She sounded as if she planned on tossing out raw meat at the zoo. Leaning forward, she brushed her cheek against Judith’s. “Thank you, my dear. Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here!”
    Puzzled, Judith looked past Maria’s sleek black head to Renie, who was on the verge of an explosion. “We won’t be late,” Judith promised, and gave Maria an impulsive hug. “Don’t worry.”
    With a wave that no one else seemed to notice, the cousins were gone. Renie was already swearing a blue streak, employing words learned at her father’s knee. Since Cliff Grover had been a seafaring man for much of his life, the language his daughter used all but seared the paint off the Clovia’s walls.
    â€œThat’s it!” Renie announced when she’d finally polished off her stream of obscenities. “No more invitations! No old chums, no popcorn vendors, nobody but us,