Poisoned Pins by Joan Hess Read Free Book Online Page A

thank you for your concern last night.”
    As before, she was sleekly and expensively dressed, and if a single gray hair had dared to disrupt her coiffed brown hair, only her hairdresser had been privy to it. She might have been older than fifty, but she had the purposeful look of a woman who went to aerobics classes thrice a week, played golf, and had things tucked and trimmed as needed. Her voice held a trace of a drawl that told me she’d grown up in the southern confines of the state, where country-club candidacies and bridal registrations still dominated the conversations at brunches, luncheons, tailgate parties, and pink teas.
    â€œYou’re welcome,” I said, stopping short of snarling.
    â€œSome of these girls . . . well, in my day it was exceedingly difficult to get into Kappa Theta Eta. If a rushee didn’t have at least one legacy, along with strong recommendations from her hometown alumnae, she was cut at the end of the first day. We never considered a girl who didn’t have a solid grade point from high school.” Her shrug was graceful, rippling down her arms like honey and ending at fingernails that must have been manicured daily. “Now we take almost anyone who shows up at the door, as long as her parents have adequate financial resources. It’s simply not the same.”
    â€œI’m sure it isn’t, Mrs. Vanderson. If you’ll excuse me, I’m expecting a long-distance call.”
    â€œI won’t keep you, Mrs. Malloy, but there’s one thing I need to ask you before you go. Yesterday evening I came by to interview the painter, and he claimednot only that you were a dear friend of his, but also that you’re a politician. I may have misunderstood him, but he swore that you . . . I believe he said you’re a senator.”
    It would have taken hours to explain why Arnie was convinced I was a senator, and although I had been less than truthful moments earlier, it was possible that someone somewhere was dialing my number. It was apt to be a con man with a foolproof scheme to make a fortune in federal oil leases, but even he appealed. “You misunderstood, and in any case, I’m a bookseller. As much as I’ve enjoyed our conversation, I really must run along now.”
    â€œThen you will vouch for this man’s good character? I cannot have anyone in the house who might bother the girls or pilfer the silverware.”
    â€œVouch for Arnie?” I said, startled. “Certainly not. He’s worthless, felonious, unreliable, delusional, and a royal pain in the neck!”
    â€œHe seemed so very fond of you,” she murmured, “and spoke of your friendship at length.”
    I aimed an unadorned and somewhat gnawed fingernail at her. “As I just said, delusional. I don’t care to discuss Arnie further, Mrs. Vanderson. If you decide to hire him, it’s none of my concern. I am expecting a call.”
    Relying on this display of indignation to stifle her, I marched to my porch and through the door. All in all, it was quite as good as anything Caron could improvise, and I was congratulating myself when I heard a scream.
    I was not torn by indecision—I was ripped to shreds right there in the middle of the staircase. The dilemma lay not between rushing upstairs to call 911 or rushing downstairs to aid Eleanor Vanderson. It lay between continuing upstairs at a leisurely pace to take a bath or returning downstairs to peek cautiously from the porch before I went upstairs to take a bath. Surely the sorority girls and housemother knew the routine by now, Itold myself as I teetered on one foot. We’d had a drill less than twenty-four hours ago.
    Reminding myself what curiosity had done to a former Katie, I decided to make sure they were handling the matter and went downstairs, feeling as though I were descending into Mr. Dante’s lower rings. The lights were again blazing and figures were darting around in