Organize Your Corpses by Mary Jane Maffini Read Free Book Online

strutting senior. Marriage and motherhood haven’t made much of a dent in her adulation. Go figure.
    Todd adjusted his eyebrows to appear a bit more solemn and said, “Woodbridge is facing its second tragedy in less than two days with news of the death of beloved local schoolteacher, Miss Helen Henley.”
    I spewed a bit of coffee. “Beloved” had caught me off guard. As I mopped up, Todd went on. “Miss Henley perished in what, at first glance, seems like a tragic accident at this historic property in Woodbridge. Police are investigating but so far have not indicated foul play. Miss Henley was a formidable influence on generations of students at St. Jude’s Catholic School. She will be deeply mourned by all whom she touched in life. That includes me, folks.”
    Todd screwed his face up a bit. I think he was trying for a new emotion. Could it have been grief? Or just a bad case of heartburn?
    I sat there openmouthed. Deeply mourned? I’d been horrified by what had happened to Miss Henley, but it had never crossed my mind that she’d be mourned, that family and friends might grieve over her loss. And what did he mean by “so far”? I’d just flicked off the news when I noticed the loud banging at my door.
    I assumed Jack was responsible for the racket. He’s always keen on breakfast at my place. But why didn’t he just walk in like every other time?
    “Coming.” I took another gulp of caffeine and flung open the door. I wore my old blue-striped flannel pajamas and my hot pink bunny slippers. My nose was red, my eyes bleary, and my hair stuck out in several directions, all of them just plain wrong.
    Crap. Jack was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Pepper Monahan stood on my doorstep, looking coiffed, buffed, waxed, and very official.
    “Good morning, Charlotte,” she said.
    “Glurk,” I said, choking on the coffee.
    “Problem?” She raised a professionally shaped eyebrow.
    “No.”
    “You seem unsettled.”
    I said, “Huh?”
    Of course I was unsettled. I could have had a cardiac arrest at the sight of Pepper at the best of times. Damned if I’d tell her that, although I was guessing she knew.
    “Yes. Rattled even.”
    At that point Truffle and Sweet Marie remembered they were in charge of keeping strangers out. They shot into the room and hurled themselves at Pepper’s legs. For added drama, they snarled, growled, and snapped.
    Pepper paled.
    “Well,” I said, getting a grip on myself, “I am a bit surprised to see you.”
    “Are you?” she said.
    In all the years that Pepper and I had been closer than sisters, I never remembered having the urge to smack her face. I had it now. Big-time.
    “What happened to Miss Henley?” she said.
    “You saw what happened. A beam fell on her.”
    “I’d like to hear all about it. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable talking at the station.”
    I gawked at her. “Talking at the station?”
    “Yes.”
    “But I don’t have much to add. That beam must have tumbled over with some newspaper and killed her.”
    “And you had nothing to do with it?”
    “What?” Had the police concluded that Truffle and Sweet Marie had dislodged the mountain of paper that buried Miss Henley? Was I, as an irresponsible dog owner, guilty of some kind of negligence?
    I gulped. “She was dead when we got there. She was cold. The dogs had no connection to it.”
    “You’d been there before?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you had quarreled with Miss Henley?”
    “Of course not. I was supposed to organize the chaos at Henley House for her.”
    “Hmm. Nice new career. Cleaning. She hired you?”
    “Not cleaning. Organizing. And yes, she did.”
    “And you can prove that?”
    “Why would I need to prove it? I had drawn up a contract. She was about to sign it that morning.”
    Pepper smirked. “There’s more to this accident than meets the eye, Charlotte.”
    “There is? What do you mean?”
    “I mean, the postmortem indicates that something is not quite right.” Pepper gave me another