Read Online A Curious Affair by Melanie Jackson - Free Book Online
Authors: Melanie Jackson
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steps in the side yard for now. That would give the cats some shelter and conceal them from my neighbor,Abby, whose house overlooks mine. She is a kind and generous soul, but she had never approved of Irv’s feline philanthropy, and I didn’t think she’d appreciate having the cats at my place either.
“Jillian!”
I turned in the direction of the surprised voice and saw Molly sitting in a shadowy corner with a half-empty glass of beer. At the sound of my name, Dell got up from his place at the bar and walked over to Molly’s table. His posture was protective.
Dell isn’t my favorite person, nor am I his. He comes from a family whose gene pool runs deep with DNA designed for violent, drug-addicted men. Aside from being a drunk, he is sly in mean ways. Such as, he has the disconcerting habit of playing with his dentures—which I am quite certain were not originally his own, since they seem too large for his jaw—popping them in and out with his tongue in a disgusting game of oral peekaboo. It makes his Adam’s apple bob up and down, and reminds me of a dog trying to lick a glob of peanut butter off the roof of his mouth. He does this on purpose, mostly to tourists, smiling meanly whenever someone looks away in discomfort.
I approached Molly anyway.
“Molly. Dell.” They didn’t ask me to sit down, but I did anyway. This uncharacteristic action made Molly’s eyes get big and a little frightened. I cleared my throat, not sure what to say now that I was there. After a moment I fell back on training. Mother was right—good manners cost nothing. And besides, they give you a cliché for every occasion. Molly would understand the ritual. She had been a businesswoman until she gave up cooking to become a full-time alcoholic.
“Molly, have you heard about Irv?” I waited for the slow shake of her head. I hadn’t asked Dell anything, but his head wagged back and forth too. I noticed thenthat he was wearing a chain, and at the end of it was a raw gold nugget that was almost hidden by his silvering chest hair. The sight surprised me. Dell wasn’t the type who adorned himself with jewelry, and I would have thought that anything valuable he came across would have ended up at the Red Hawk pawnshop.
“What…what about Irv?”
“I’m sorry.” And I was sorry, which made the next part easier. “Irv died last night. He…” He what? Was murdered? I was pretty sure that one shouldn’t blurt out something like that. Especially if one was trying to find out what might have happened to the victim and the people you were dealing with were highly allergic to anything that might bring them into contact with the law.
Fortunately, Molly covered for me. She began to cry. She reached for my hand under the table and clutched at it with chapped fingers. I had been hoping to avoid this contact, but couldn’t very well pull away.
“Poor Irv. It was his heart, wasn’t it?” She pulled a napkin out of the dispenser with her left hand and wiped at her eyes. Dell began patting her shoulder. Both looked upset, if not surprised. If anything, I would have said that Dell looked chagrined, maybe even annoyed.
Again, since I am not the best liar—at least not in person—I opted for a version of the truth when answering.
“I’m not sure, Molly. I think the sheriff has ordered an autopsy. Maybe they’ll find out what happened.”
“The sheriff!” As I expected, the tears stopped instantly and her hand withdrew. “Did Murphy hurt Irv?”
“No!” My reaction was immediate and strong. “No, I got the sheriff after I found Irv.”
At their continued looks of absolute incomprehension, I felt compelled to explain why I hadn’t called them instead.
“You know how my jaw is sometimes.” I waited for anod from Molly. Practically everyone in town knew about my jaw. “Well, it was terrible last night. I could barely move it at all. I knew I couldn’t call anyone on the phone. And I had been drinking. A lot.” That was
“Jillian!”
I turned in the direction of the surprised voice and saw Molly sitting in a shadowy corner with a half-empty glass of beer. At the sound of my name, Dell got up from his place at the bar and walked over to Molly’s table. His posture was protective.
Dell isn’t my favorite person, nor am I his. He comes from a family whose gene pool runs deep with DNA designed for violent, drug-addicted men. Aside from being a drunk, he is sly in mean ways. Such as, he has the disconcerting habit of playing with his dentures—which I am quite certain were not originally his own, since they seem too large for his jaw—popping them in and out with his tongue in a disgusting game of oral peekaboo. It makes his Adam’s apple bob up and down, and reminds me of a dog trying to lick a glob of peanut butter off the roof of his mouth. He does this on purpose, mostly to tourists, smiling meanly whenever someone looks away in discomfort.
I approached Molly anyway.
“Molly. Dell.” They didn’t ask me to sit down, but I did anyway. This uncharacteristic action made Molly’s eyes get big and a little frightened. I cleared my throat, not sure what to say now that I was there. After a moment I fell back on training. Mother was right—good manners cost nothing. And besides, they give you a cliché for every occasion. Molly would understand the ritual. She had been a businesswoman until she gave up cooking to become a full-time alcoholic.
“Molly, have you heard about Irv?” I waited for the slow shake of her head. I hadn’t asked Dell anything, but his head wagged back and forth too. I noticed thenthat he was wearing a chain, and at the end of it was a raw gold nugget that was almost hidden by his silvering chest hair. The sight surprised me. Dell wasn’t the type who adorned himself with jewelry, and I would have thought that anything valuable he came across would have ended up at the Red Hawk pawnshop.
“What…what about Irv?”
“I’m sorry.” And I was sorry, which made the next part easier. “Irv died last night. He…” He what? Was murdered? I was pretty sure that one shouldn’t blurt out something like that. Especially if one was trying to find out what might have happened to the victim and the people you were dealing with were highly allergic to anything that might bring them into contact with the law.
Fortunately, Molly covered for me. She began to cry. She reached for my hand under the table and clutched at it with chapped fingers. I had been hoping to avoid this contact, but couldn’t very well pull away.
“Poor Irv. It was his heart, wasn’t it?” She pulled a napkin out of the dispenser with her left hand and wiped at her eyes. Dell began patting her shoulder. Both looked upset, if not surprised. If anything, I would have said that Dell looked chagrined, maybe even annoyed.
Again, since I am not the best liar—at least not in person—I opted for a version of the truth when answering.
“I’m not sure, Molly. I think the sheriff has ordered an autopsy. Maybe they’ll find out what happened.”
“The sheriff!” As I expected, the tears stopped instantly and her hand withdrew. “Did Murphy hurt Irv?”
“No!” My reaction was immediate and strong. “No, I got the sheriff after I found Irv.”
At their continued looks of absolute incomprehension, I felt compelled to explain why I hadn’t called them instead.
“You know how my jaw is sometimes.” I waited for anod from Molly. Practically everyone in town knew about my jaw. “Well, it was terrible last night. I could barely move it at all. I knew I couldn’t call anyone on the phone. And I had been drinking. A lot.” That was
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