Read Online Devil May Care by Elizabeth Peters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Peters
Tags: Fiction, General, detective, Suspense, Psychological, Romance, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery, Witches, Mystery Fiction, American Fiction, Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, Fiction - Mystery, Virginia
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smile was amazing; Ellie thought of leprechauns, the Cheshire Cat, and a very young boy cousin whose cherubic face looked particularly innocent just before he reached the punch line of a dirty joke. The newcomer had one of those faces that are pure India rubber, capable of unlimited mimicry. The sort of face that is a tremendous asset to an actor, or a spy.
However, it was also unmistakably the face of her first ghost. There were some differences. This man was darker-skinned--which might have been simply a matter of suntan--and thinner. His cheekbones stood out too sharply, like his ribs. His eyes were DEVIL-MAY-CARE 57
hazel flecked with brown; green in some lights, dark in others.
As Ellie continued to study him, her fixed stare began to bother the newcomer. His smile faded, and he shifted uneasily from one sneakered foot to the other.
"You must have seen uglier people," he said. "Or has my nose turned bright green or something?"
Ellie was groggy from heat and sleep, or she probably would not have spoken so unguardedly.
"You look just like my ghost," she said.
Donald sat down, in one smooth movement, his legs crossed and his feet tucked in.
"You're the first person I've ever met who had a personal ghost. Since you're a relative of Kate's, I'm not surprised. But I am interested. Tell me more."
Ellie sat up, pushing the damp hair back from her face. She was wearing shorts and a skimpy T-shirt, and Donald's eyes followed her movements with candid appreciation.
"No, you tell me more," she said firmly. "Who you are, for instance, and why you were hovering over me like Count Dracula."
Donald's upper lip lifted when she mentioned the classic vampire; she could have sworn, for a moment, that his canine teeth elongated. Then his face relaxed.
"I was admiring your figure," he explained.
"You must be the neighbor Kate told me about," Ellie said. "She said you'd be coming to mow the lawn, but I didn't visualize--" "You thought of a Beaseley," Donald interrupted.
Ellie could not have explained how he did it, but his face was suddenly pure Beaseley--long jaw, jutting nose ... "No such luck," Donald went on, letting his features slip back into their normal shape. "My dad is the local doctor. We live over there." He waved
58 Elizabeth Peters vaguely at the row of spruces that loomed up beyond the herb garden.
"Oh," Ellie said grudgingly. "I guess I have heard of you. Why didn't I ever meet you?"
"I guess you were never here when I was home from boarding school and college. I know about you, though. Kate brags about you a lot."
"And what are you doing now--besides cutting lawns?"
"Nothing." Donald smiled. "Absolutely nothing."
"Oh, really. How old are you?"
"None of your business."
"Twenty-six?" Ellie guessed. "You mean you haven't got a permanent job?"
"Listen, taking care of Kate's grounds is a full-time job for four men," Donald said indignantly. "I work like a dog. Not like one of Kate's dogs," he added, with a disparaging glance at Toby, who had fallen asleep and was snoring lustily.
Ellie refused to be distracted.
"Cutting grass is a ridiculous way for a man like you to earn a living. You let your father put you through college so you could cut grass? You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"You're cute when you get mad," Donald said. He added, "I suppose that's why you've developed such filthy rude manners. Blondes always think they can get away with things that would earn anybody else a punch in the nose. Now why don't you get down off your soapbox and tell me about your ghost?"
If it had not been so warm and pleasant in the sun, if Donald's smile had not been so ingratiating, and if Ellie had been a little less worried, she might have sent him about his business. But she did not analyze these motives until much later. She simply talked.
Donald was fascinated. A flicker of emotion that might have been embarrassment crossed his face when Ellie mentioned his startling resemblance to the first apparition, but
However, it was also unmistakably the face of her first ghost. There were some differences. This man was darker-skinned--which might have been simply a matter of suntan--and thinner. His cheekbones stood out too sharply, like his ribs. His eyes were DEVIL-MAY-CARE 57
hazel flecked with brown; green in some lights, dark in others.
As Ellie continued to study him, her fixed stare began to bother the newcomer. His smile faded, and he shifted uneasily from one sneakered foot to the other.
"You must have seen uglier people," he said. "Or has my nose turned bright green or something?"
Ellie was groggy from heat and sleep, or she probably would not have spoken so unguardedly.
"You look just like my ghost," she said.
Donald sat down, in one smooth movement, his legs crossed and his feet tucked in.
"You're the first person I've ever met who had a personal ghost. Since you're a relative of Kate's, I'm not surprised. But I am interested. Tell me more."
Ellie sat up, pushing the damp hair back from her face. She was wearing shorts and a skimpy T-shirt, and Donald's eyes followed her movements with candid appreciation.
"No, you tell me more," she said firmly. "Who you are, for instance, and why you were hovering over me like Count Dracula."
Donald's upper lip lifted when she mentioned the classic vampire; she could have sworn, for a moment, that his canine teeth elongated. Then his face relaxed.
"I was admiring your figure," he explained.
"You must be the neighbor Kate told me about," Ellie said. "She said you'd be coming to mow the lawn, but I didn't visualize--" "You thought of a Beaseley," Donald interrupted.
Ellie could not have explained how he did it, but his face was suddenly pure Beaseley--long jaw, jutting nose ... "No such luck," Donald went on, letting his features slip back into their normal shape. "My dad is the local doctor. We live over there." He waved
58 Elizabeth Peters vaguely at the row of spruces that loomed up beyond the herb garden.
"Oh," Ellie said grudgingly. "I guess I have heard of you. Why didn't I ever meet you?"
"I guess you were never here when I was home from boarding school and college. I know about you, though. Kate brags about you a lot."
"And what are you doing now--besides cutting lawns?"
"Nothing." Donald smiled. "Absolutely nothing."
"Oh, really. How old are you?"
"None of your business."
"Twenty-six?" Ellie guessed. "You mean you haven't got a permanent job?"
"Listen, taking care of Kate's grounds is a full-time job for four men," Donald said indignantly. "I work like a dog. Not like one of Kate's dogs," he added, with a disparaging glance at Toby, who had fallen asleep and was snoring lustily.
Ellie refused to be distracted.
"Cutting grass is a ridiculous way for a man like you to earn a living. You let your father put you through college so you could cut grass? You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"You're cute when you get mad," Donald said. He added, "I suppose that's why you've developed such filthy rude manners. Blondes always think they can get away with things that would earn anybody else a punch in the nose. Now why don't you get down off your soapbox and tell me about your ghost?"
If it had not been so warm and pleasant in the sun, if Donald's smile had not been so ingratiating, and if Ellie had been a little less worried, she might have sent him about his business. But she did not analyze these motives until much later. She simply talked.
Donald was fascinated. A flicker of emotion that might have been embarrassment crossed his face when Ellie mentioned his startling resemblance to the first apparition, but
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