Getting Old Is Très Dangereux: A Mystery by Rita Lakin Read Free Book Online

To see her advance reading copies? I breathe a small sigh of relief. How much is he really telling me and how much has been abbreviated to protect the innocent? Why is all of this making me uncomfortable?
    “Gladdy, she really does have a problem. There might be someone stalking her. She gets notes threatening to kill her if she doesn’t stop writing her books. Unfortunately she threw the notes away. But she refuses to take it seriously. For example, I told her she shouldn’t be walking around alone. Not that she couldn’t be targeted in a crowd, but it lessens the odds. She promised me she’d report it to the security office. I think I’m going to phone Morrie and see what he suggests.”
    Yes, let Morrie take over and you stay away
. I wonder if his policeman son knows all about Dad’s hot love affair.
    Hopeful me says, “So, that’s it. You don’t have to see her again.”
    He hesitates. Face turning a bit red again.
    “Well, she did invite me to her book signing tonight.” He pauses. “And of course, she said for me to bring you.”
    Oops. Spoke too soon. The pause gave him away. Not out of the prickly woods yet.
    I pick up the now empty lemonade pitcher. Jack takes his clue from me and discards the empty paper cups and napkins in the trash bin.
    I start on the cobblestone path toward my apartment, mind whirling. I feel insecure. I was so sure of Jack’s love. Not anymore.
    Jack follows behind me. “I’d like it if you came with me,” he says to my back.
    “I don’t think so. Thanks anyway for asking.”
    “You’d probably enjoy it.”
    He’s being too eager. Trying too hard to amuse me. His tone is insincere. I should go. Just to watch the body language between the two of them. But I don’t really want to see it. Right now I can’t even look in his eyes for fear I’ll see a lie there.
    We walk up the stairs, my posture still stiff and aloof. But I can’t keep my back to him forever. I’ll have to face him and my eyes will reveal my fears.
    We reach the apartment door and he turns me around. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
    I take a deep breath. “I was thinking that with you away I could do my nails … and wash my hair.” I pause. “Honest.”
    He looks at me, but I hold precariously on to my blank expression. He nods once. “I promise not to be too long.” He pauses. “Honest.”
    Now his back is to me as he opens our door.

5
THE BOOK SIGNING
    J ack hovers over me as I cook. He tries to help me get done quickly, so of course that slows me down. He sets the table fast and clumsily. Grabs plates, silverware, napkins, scurrying back and forth from kitchen to dining room, knocking into me, as if he were running a marathon. I try to keep out of his way. I don’t comment on his behavior.
    When dinner is finally ready, he gobbles it down. I doubt if he even knows what he ate. No leisurely conversation at this meal.
    He scrapes his chair getting up, almost overturning it, and apologizes sheepishly. “I really shouldn’t be late.”
    As he grabs his jacket off the couch I see a tie sticking out of its pocket. A tie to go to a booksigning? “I hope you don’t mind doing the cleanup?” he says.
    “Not a problem.”
    “I was told it starts on time. First a speech and then the signing.” He makes a last dash for the bathroom. In moments he comes out and his hair has been wetly combed and he smells of aftershave. After giving me a quick kiss on the cheek he heads out the door.
    Then he hurries back to where I still sit, unmoving, at the table. He asks, “Are you sure you won’t come?”
    Since I’m in shorts and a T-shirt and barefoot, obviously it would take me time to get ready and if I said yes, he’d be stumbling all around me, anxiously hurrying me. “No, thanks. On your way now and make sure you buy a copy. I’m very interested in reading her book.”
And I hope she’s an awful writer
, I think meanly.
    “Thanks, honey, I will.” And he is gone. In a flash.
    I sit