Murder on a Bad Hair Day by Anne George Read Free Book Online Page A

her head. “Tried to kill me. Last night. Somebody.”
    “Who?”
    Claire shrugged and put her face back into the afghan.
    “See?” Mary Alice said. “That’s why she wanted the police.”
    “Claire, are you sure?” I asked.
    “In my apartment. When I came in. They had a knife. I ran and I ran and I’m so scared.” She whimpered like a hurt animal.
    Mary Alice reached for the phone; I didn’t stop her. I sat beside the terrified Claire, patted her, assured her everything would be all right. The girl’s shoulders were rigid with fear. Tears came to my eyes when one of her hands came up slowly to cover mine.
    “They’ll be here in a few minutes,” Sister said. She sat down in Fred’s recliner and we looked at each other. Sisters for sixty years, we didn’t need words for our conversation.
    “What is going on here?” she asked with a motion of her head.
    “I have no idea,” I shrugged silently.
    Mary Alice looked at Claire, who was still slumped over but was holding my hand.
    “I’m worried,” Sister said by pressing a finger to her lips.
    “Me, too,” I nodded.
    “Claire,” Mary Alice said, leaning forward. “Do you want a Valium?”
    Claire nodded yes.
    “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I said. “She may be in shock.”
    “She needs something to calm her down.”
    “You got a Valium?”
    “No, but you do. There’s some in your medicine cabinet left from the Skoot ’n’ Boot when you got shook up.”
    “Shook up? You call a fractured skull and God knows what else ‘shook up’? And what were you doing in my medicine cabinet?”
    “Looking for aspirin, of course.”
    “You know I keep the aspirin in the kitchen cabinet.”
    “Aspirin should be in the bathroom.” Mary Alice pushed herself out of the recliner. “I’ll get you a Valium, Claire.”
    Time was I would have stuck out my foot when Sister walked by. The urge was still there, but knowing Mary Alice, she would fall on me and break my hip. I refrained.
    “I’ll get you something to drink,” I told Claire. “You want coffee or Coke?”
    She nodded, so the decision was mine. I went into the kitchen and put a lot of ice into a glass. The coffee was decaf, but the Coke had caffeine. Maybe it would offset the Valium’s effects some.
    While I was pouring the Coke, Mary Alice came into the kitchen. “What is this?” she asked, holding out her palm with a pink tablet in it. “Valiums have holes in the middle. Have you been mixing up your medicines again?”
    “It’s generic. And I never mix up my medicines.”
    “You do, too. You remember that time I took what was supposed to be penicillin and it was muscle relaxant that made me sick as a dog because you had it in the wrong bottle. Remember?”
    “Mary Alice,” I said, “didn’t that teach you a lesson about taking other people’s medicine?”
    “It taught me I can’t trust you to keep them in the right bottle.”
    I got a napkin for the glass. “That’s Valium, but I don’t think it’s such a smart idea giving her one.”
    “It’ll make her feel better.”
    “I think she needs to go to the doctor.” But I followed Sister back to the den, where Claire was still hunched over like a question mark.
    “Here, Claire.” Mary Alice handed her the pink tablet and I gave her the Coke. Except for that first glance upward, it was the first time Sister had seen Claire’s dirty, mascara-streaked face. “Oh, you poor thing,” she said. “Mouse, go get us a warm washrag.” She picked up part of the afghan that was sliding from the sofa and straightened it. “Wouldn’tthat feel good, Claire? Your face and hands wiped with a warm washrag? Go get us one, Mouse.”
    “You know where they are,” I said. I couldn’t resist it. Mary Alice turned and looked at me, and I headed for the linen closet. I wasn’t gone a minute, but when I got back, Sister was quizzing Claire about her attacker. Was it a man or a woman? What kind of knife was it? What did they