Judas Cat by Dorothy Salisbury Davis Read Free Book Online Page B

again—the frustration in her life, and her poor brave attempts to ignore it and pretend to happiness.
    “I don’t think she ever forgave him for it, though,” Mr. Whiting continued “All the old biddies thought she had something. Maybe she thought so, too. But after that night, I don’t think she ever had another fling in her life.”
    “It was a mean thing for him to do,” Mrs. Whiting said.
    “Sure it was. I don’t think Andy was ever known for his kindness.”
    “I guess she asked for it,” Alex said. “When I see her smiling and scraping, and I know butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, I can’t stand her. But what in hell could she do about it? Go and hang herself?”
    Mr. Whiting sighed and looked down at his hands. They were whiter now than they had ever been in his life, almost as white as his hair. Everybody grew old and white and lonely. He at least, had a full life and Laura and Alex. “Yes, I know what you mean, son. I don’t much care for them old maid jokes myself.”
    “She’s done a lot of good things in her day,” Mrs. Whiting said.
    “How old would you say she is, Mom?”
    “Probably in her seventies.”
    “That old?”
    “She was out of high school before your father got in.”
    “You know it’s a queer thing,” said Alex. “I can never remember what people looked like years ago. I just see them now. I don’t remember Andy as anything but a dried up old man. I can’t get over there not being pictures or letters or something in that house.”
    “There should be a deed to the property at least.”
    “That’s right,” said Alex, “unless he has a box in the bank. But why would he keep that much cash in the house if he had?”
    “You can find out easy enough. Call Milt Johnson. He’s home by now.”
    Alex went into the house to phone. Mrs. Whiting went to the kitchen to get supper.
    “Nope,” he said when he returned to the porch, “never set foot in the bank all the years he’s been here.”
    “Give me a cigarette, boy,” his father said. He lit it and inhaled thoughtfully. “Just what do you expect to do in this business?”
    “I don’t know, Dad. Maybe just look for a story. The more inklings I get into the kind of guy old Andy was, the more I want to know about him.”
    “Is that all?”
    “No. I still feel somebody wasn’t satisfied he was dying fast enough. And I think the attitude of the county is typical of their whole rotten setup there.”
    “That’s something else again,” his father said. “That’s serious stuff for you to step into.”
    “I know it is. But damn it, Dad, I know Waterman had the same idea at noon today.”
    “But somebody side-tracked him.”
    “Between the mayor and Mark Tobin he went cold as a mackerel.”
    “Who else came down from Riverdale, Alex?”
    “Jim Olson, a deputy sheriff.”
    “That’s Mel Olson’s boy,” his father said. “He’s a good man, I think. Just light on experience. You know they’re not all bad up there. Just most of them.”
    “He seemed to be doing a good job. I don’t know much about it.”
    “Where did Mayor Altman come in on it?”
    “He came up to the house while the county men were there. I figure he wants to keep the town’s skirts clean in case the Addison clan’s involved.”
    Mr. Whiting looked intently at his son.
    “Yes, that’s probably it,” he said. “That’s going to make all of them wary. I don’t like you bucking into that outfit, Alex. I know that’s what you’re after, but I hate to see it start this way.”
    “I’d like to see them cleaned out,” Alex said.
    “I know. But it’s a hard, long job. You know what happened to me while you were away. It bears thinking about again now. I figured there was funny business in the draft board. The whole damn town was going into war plants—Addison Industries. Every recruit was coming from the farm kids. I broke it up, but for two years I couldn’t get enough newsprint for a handbill.”
    “That’s power,” Alex