Read Online Death of a PTA Goddess by Leslie O'Kane - Free Book Online
Authors: Leslie O'Kane
Tags: Fiction
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going to be better than one.” She gestured at Lauren. “I’m assuming you’ll take advantage of your friendship with the police sergeant’s wife, after all.”
Lauren let out a guffaw. “Stephanie, Molly never takes advantage of our friendship. We’ve been friends our whole lives because we like each other. For good reason.”
“You misunderstood the implication.” She chuckled. “Molly, you know I didn’t mean that you’re friends with the chief investigator’s wife because that’s prudent. Now mind you, I’m assuming that you’re innocent, despite how idiotic you were shown to be in the tape and the fact that you had the best opportunity.”
I massaged my suddenly aching temples. “You know, I am not in the mood to put up with this. Please leave, Stephanie.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I obviously underestimated how touchy you would be the morning after your morbid discovery.” She rose and headed for the door. “You know how to find me,” she said over her shoulder as she shut the door behind her.
I growled in frustration and looked at Lauren, who gave me a smile. I said, “If only I could figure out how to
lose
her.”
Chapter 5
A Different Drummer
The next couple of days seemed to pass in a colorless blur. After having given myself twenty-four hours to cool off, I had called Stephanie and initiated a peace-pipe exchange. She was just being herself, after all, and with a killer on the loose who was very possibly a fellow PTA member, none of us needed to make enemies. The passage of time, however, had done nothing to ease my guilt over my cowardly avoidance of Kelly Birch on the night of the murder. Nathan reported to me that she’d been absent from school both Monday and Tuesday. I planned to tell her after the funeral, which was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, how very sorry I was about her mother.
But for now, I was seated in “the big chair” with my sketch pad, in search of a cartoon idea. Eventually I drew a couple of elderly women staring after a young man dressed in feathers and streamers who is cheerfully marching down the street while banging on a drum. One woman is gripping the other woman’s sleeve and says to her, “Hold on, Agnes . . . this could be a trap. Are we supposed to march to the beat of a different
drum
. . . or to a different
drummer
?”
The phone rang. “And not a moment too soon,” I said to myself as I dropped my feeble attempt at humor, stepped over my sleeping dog, and answered the phone.
“Molly?” The voice was tense and unfamiliar to me. “This is Jane Daly. You’re down as a substitute chaperone for the eighth graders’ ski trip this evening.”
“I am?” I muttered, needing a moment to transition from stupid-cartoonist mode to addled-mother mode. “Oh, of course I am.” This ski trip was an anticipatory celebration for the eighth graders who’d be graduating from junior high in a few months. With tomorrow and Friday scheduled as in-service days for the junior high, this was not a school night. “My son, Nathan, has been really looking forward to it. Somebody got sick?”
There was a pause. “Patty was supposed to be one of the chaperones.”
I winced. “Oh. Of course. Stupid of me not to realize that.”
“You couldn’t have known she was going.”
“Sure I could have. She started the whole tradition of the ski trip, after all.”
“Yes. It was another of her terrific ideas.”
Her voice sounded flat. Having witnessed her videotaped harangue of Patty, I immediately bristled and asked, “Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, it’s not that. I’m just a little upset, because I just now found out that Kelly’s going on the ski trip, in spite of everything.”
“Kelly Birch?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “Keep a special watch out for her, would you?”
“I will, but I’m . . . surprised to hear she’s going. She hasn’t been in school. I assumed she’d be needing time to cope with her loss.”
“That’s what
I
thought,
Lauren let out a guffaw. “Stephanie, Molly never takes advantage of our friendship. We’ve been friends our whole lives because we like each other. For good reason.”
“You misunderstood the implication.” She chuckled. “Molly, you know I didn’t mean that you’re friends with the chief investigator’s wife because that’s prudent. Now mind you, I’m assuming that you’re innocent, despite how idiotic you were shown to be in the tape and the fact that you had the best opportunity.”
I massaged my suddenly aching temples. “You know, I am not in the mood to put up with this. Please leave, Stephanie.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I obviously underestimated how touchy you would be the morning after your morbid discovery.” She rose and headed for the door. “You know how to find me,” she said over her shoulder as she shut the door behind her.
I growled in frustration and looked at Lauren, who gave me a smile. I said, “If only I could figure out how to
lose
her.”
Chapter 5
A Different Drummer
The next couple of days seemed to pass in a colorless blur. After having given myself twenty-four hours to cool off, I had called Stephanie and initiated a peace-pipe exchange. She was just being herself, after all, and with a killer on the loose who was very possibly a fellow PTA member, none of us needed to make enemies. The passage of time, however, had done nothing to ease my guilt over my cowardly avoidance of Kelly Birch on the night of the murder. Nathan reported to me that she’d been absent from school both Monday and Tuesday. I planned to tell her after the funeral, which was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, how very sorry I was about her mother.
But for now, I was seated in “the big chair” with my sketch pad, in search of a cartoon idea. Eventually I drew a couple of elderly women staring after a young man dressed in feathers and streamers who is cheerfully marching down the street while banging on a drum. One woman is gripping the other woman’s sleeve and says to her, “Hold on, Agnes . . . this could be a trap. Are we supposed to march to the beat of a different
drum
. . . or to a different
drummer
?”
The phone rang. “And not a moment too soon,” I said to myself as I dropped my feeble attempt at humor, stepped over my sleeping dog, and answered the phone.
“Molly?” The voice was tense and unfamiliar to me. “This is Jane Daly. You’re down as a substitute chaperone for the eighth graders’ ski trip this evening.”
“I am?” I muttered, needing a moment to transition from stupid-cartoonist mode to addled-mother mode. “Oh, of course I am.” This ski trip was an anticipatory celebration for the eighth graders who’d be graduating from junior high in a few months. With tomorrow and Friday scheduled as in-service days for the junior high, this was not a school night. “My son, Nathan, has been really looking forward to it. Somebody got sick?”
There was a pause. “Patty was supposed to be one of the chaperones.”
I winced. “Oh. Of course. Stupid of me not to realize that.”
“You couldn’t have known she was going.”
“Sure I could have. She started the whole tradition of the ski trip, after all.”
“Yes. It was another of her terrific ideas.”
Her voice sounded flat. Having witnessed her videotaped harangue of Patty, I immediately bristled and asked, “Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, it’s not that. I’m just a little upset, because I just now found out that Kelly’s going on the ski trip, in spite of everything.”
“Kelly Birch?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “Keep a special watch out for her, would you?”
“I will, but I’m . . . surprised to hear she’s going. She hasn’t been in school. I assumed she’d be needing time to cope with her loss.”
“That’s what
I
thought,
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