Read Online Tickled to Death by Joan Hess - Free Book Online

merely blinked at the top of her stack.
    Their slave driver smiled at me. “And I’ll see you in half an hour, Claire. I must run home and get out of these dusty clothes before the party.”
    “Before the party?”
    “Luanne and Dick have invited a few people for hamburgers. This will give us all a chance to get to know each other, won’t it?” She laded the words with significance so that I, her personal effigy of Nancy Drew, would realize this was my opportunity to interrogate the suspects—except no one was supposed to be suspected of anything.
    Livia tucked the brochure in her pocket, and for what seemed like the first time, noticed Caron and Inez. “You gals are staying here, aren’t you? I’ll have to think which bedrooms are clean. Wharton and I moved to the Purple Martin only three days ago, so I suppose you could take the Hummingbird if you don’t mind sharing.”
    “You changed bedrooms three days ago?” asked Caron.
    “Or maybe four. There are seven bedroom suites on this floor. Rather than deal with cleaning on a weekly basis, we work our way through all seven rooms and then have them cleaned at one time. Agatha Anne arranges for a service to come in once a month.”
    Caron and Inez did not respond, but I could tell from their faces that they found this less than enchantingly eccentric. I wondered if the Dunlings had done the same during their armyyears. Why clean the bathtub when one is to be transferred sooner or later?
    “I’ll see you girls in the morning,” Agatha Anne chirped, waved, and was heading out the door when the telephone rang. She returned and picked up the receiver. “Dunling Foundation.”
    Livia curled a finger at the girls. “Come along and we’ll get you settled. Would you prefer the Mockingbird? It’s done in soothing shades of gray and white.”
    “It sounds great,” Caron said lugubriously as she and Inez trudged toward the door. Neither felt compelled to wish me a festive evening at the party, but I was fairly sure they would not flee during the night.
    “I don’t know where Wharton is,” Agatha Anne said into the receiver, “but I’ll see if I can find him.” She frowned, then said, “Fine, Wharton. I didn’t realize you were on the line.”
    As soon as she’d replaced the receiver, I said, “I’ll see you shortly.”
    “Please take some more literature, and do consider becoming a volunteer, Claire. Our biggest and most vital fund-raiser of the year, the Rapturous Raptors Ball, is coming up in less than a month. Becca was in charge of it, bless her heart, and now I have no idea who’s lining up the orchestra and who has the list of donations for the silent auction. The invitations are ready to go out, but I still haven’t found a volunteer to address theenvelopes by hand. There are only a thousand. It really shouldn’t take all that long.” She regarded me as if assessing my skills in the genteel art of penmanship.
    “I guess I’ll head over to Dick’s house,” I said hastily. Without catching a glimpse of the girls (or hearing their mutters of indignation from within a birdcage), I retraced our path to the living room and went out the front door. I was not surprised to see a milk-chocolate-brown Jaguar beside my hatchback. Agatha Anne would not have driven a common species of car. I drove up the hill and down the driveway, and only as I cut off the engine did I remember who was apt to be the sole occupant. Taking my overnight bag from the backseat, I tried to decide if I ought to mention the mutual surveillance and laugh it off, or pretend it had never happened and cower in a guest room until Luanne arrived. If guests were expected in a matter of minutes, surely the host and hostess would be there as well.
    I was dismayed when Jillian opened the door. “I’m Claire Malloy,” I said, aware of a shrill edge to my voice. “I was here last weekend, but you were dashing off to the print shop. Is Luanne here?”
    “She and Father went to the