Read Online Fat-Free and Fatal (A Kate Jasper Mystery) by Jaqueline Girdner - Free Book Online
Authors: Jaqueline Girdner
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replied thankfully.
I still liked Alice. She gave great directions. I’d worry about her being a killer after I got out of traffic.
The restaurant she took us to served salad, soup, and a few hot entrees and sandwiches cafeteria style, a necessity for office workers who had only an hour for lunch. Meg, Alice and I all got garden salads with whole-wheat rolls. Barbara asked for lasagna. I eyed her tray enviously as we paid for our meals and carried them to a laminated wood table.
We ate in silence for a few minutes. The salad was limp, the Italian dressing too oily. Barbara squinted her eyes and stared at Alice. Alice stared back at Barbara. Meg sniffled and kept her eyes on her salad.
“So, Alice,” I said finally. I tried to keep my voice friendly, conversational. “You knew the Snyders before, didn’t you?”
Alice’s eyebrows went up. Wasn’t she expecting this kind of question? Why did she think we were meeting her for lunch? After a moment, her eyebrows came back down and she answered.
“Sheila and Dan and I all lived in the same commune,” she told us. Her eyes went out of focus as she remembered. “This was years ago, way before their kids. When I was still thin,” she added, laughing. “So was Dan. God, he was a hunk. There were twelve of us originally. We all put in a little money and leased this huge old farmhouse out in Granville. Called it Heartsong. It was really neat, at least for a while.
“We all shared chores. Sheila cooked vegetarian meals. Maybe that’s why I was so thin. She never could cook worth a damn.” Alice laughed again. Then her eyes came back into focus. She shook her head sadly.
“Did you keep in touch?” asked Barbara.
“No,” Alice answered. She took a bite of salad and mumbled through it “I left the commune in ‘73. Stopped making macrame and went back out into the real world. Got a real job. I didn’t see Dan and Sheila again till a few months ago at a farmers market. What a trip! After all these years. We got together a few times. I ate at their restaurant.” Alice smiled.
“Sheila still doesn’t cook very well,” she said. But then her smile disappeared. “I guess I should say, she didn’t cook very well. It’s hard to believe she’s dead.” She bent her head over her salad and took another bite.
“How did Dan and Sheila get along?” I asked through a mouthful of my own salad.
Alice’s head jerked up at the question. Her eyes narrowed, her good-natured face no longer good-natured.
“I mean—” I began.
“I know what you mean,” she snapped. “Dan loved his wife, loved her absolutely, without reservation. Even when she hit the kids, he would just ask her to stop. He loved her more than anything, more than…” Her eyes went out of focus again as her words trailed off.
Was she thinking that Dan had loved Sheila more than her? I remembered the way she had run to Dan the night before, her arms outstretched. She was in love with Dan. Suddenly, I was sure of it. Alice had a motive. I stared at her heart-shaped face for a moment, my head buzzing with adrenaline. I barely heard her as she began to speak again.
“—terrible the way Sheila hit those kids,” she was saying indignantly as I tuned in. She turned to Meg. “Remember when we visited Sheila to set up the class? She hit the little one so hard she fell over.”
Meg nodded, her green eyes round in her pale face.
“Parents shouldn’t do that to their kids,” Barbara muttered.
I stared down at what was left of my salad.
“They shouldn’t, but they do,” I muttered back, thinking of what Wayne had told me about the beatings Vesta used to give him. He still had scars on his back from the belt she had used. And worse scars on his psyche, I was sure. My hands automatically bunched into fists as I thought about her.
“You’ve got my sympathy, kiddo,” Barbara told me, patting my shoulder. “It can’t be any picnic living with that witch.”
I looked up. Meg and Alice were
I still liked Alice. She gave great directions. I’d worry about her being a killer after I got out of traffic.
The restaurant she took us to served salad, soup, and a few hot entrees and sandwiches cafeteria style, a necessity for office workers who had only an hour for lunch. Meg, Alice and I all got garden salads with whole-wheat rolls. Barbara asked for lasagna. I eyed her tray enviously as we paid for our meals and carried them to a laminated wood table.
We ate in silence for a few minutes. The salad was limp, the Italian dressing too oily. Barbara squinted her eyes and stared at Alice. Alice stared back at Barbara. Meg sniffled and kept her eyes on her salad.
“So, Alice,” I said finally. I tried to keep my voice friendly, conversational. “You knew the Snyders before, didn’t you?”
Alice’s eyebrows went up. Wasn’t she expecting this kind of question? Why did she think we were meeting her for lunch? After a moment, her eyebrows came back down and she answered.
“Sheila and Dan and I all lived in the same commune,” she told us. Her eyes went out of focus as she remembered. “This was years ago, way before their kids. When I was still thin,” she added, laughing. “So was Dan. God, he was a hunk. There were twelve of us originally. We all put in a little money and leased this huge old farmhouse out in Granville. Called it Heartsong. It was really neat, at least for a while.
“We all shared chores. Sheila cooked vegetarian meals. Maybe that’s why I was so thin. She never could cook worth a damn.” Alice laughed again. Then her eyes came back into focus. She shook her head sadly.
“Did you keep in touch?” asked Barbara.
“No,” Alice answered. She took a bite of salad and mumbled through it “I left the commune in ‘73. Stopped making macrame and went back out into the real world. Got a real job. I didn’t see Dan and Sheila again till a few months ago at a farmers market. What a trip! After all these years. We got together a few times. I ate at their restaurant.” Alice smiled.
“Sheila still doesn’t cook very well,” she said. But then her smile disappeared. “I guess I should say, she didn’t cook very well. It’s hard to believe she’s dead.” She bent her head over her salad and took another bite.
“How did Dan and Sheila get along?” I asked through a mouthful of my own salad.
Alice’s head jerked up at the question. Her eyes narrowed, her good-natured face no longer good-natured.
“I mean—” I began.
“I know what you mean,” she snapped. “Dan loved his wife, loved her absolutely, without reservation. Even when she hit the kids, he would just ask her to stop. He loved her more than anything, more than…” Her eyes went out of focus again as her words trailed off.
Was she thinking that Dan had loved Sheila more than her? I remembered the way she had run to Dan the night before, her arms outstretched. She was in love with Dan. Suddenly, I was sure of it. Alice had a motive. I stared at her heart-shaped face for a moment, my head buzzing with adrenaline. I barely heard her as she began to speak again.
“—terrible the way Sheila hit those kids,” she was saying indignantly as I tuned in. She turned to Meg. “Remember when we visited Sheila to set up the class? She hit the little one so hard she fell over.”
Meg nodded, her green eyes round in her pale face.
“Parents shouldn’t do that to their kids,” Barbara muttered.
I stared down at what was left of my salad.
“They shouldn’t, but they do,” I muttered back, thinking of what Wayne had told me about the beatings Vesta used to give him. He still had scars on his back from the belt she had used. And worse scars on his psyche, I was sure. My hands automatically bunched into fists as I thought about her.
“You’ve got my sympathy, kiddo,” Barbara told me, patting my shoulder. “It can’t be any picnic living with that witch.”
I looked up. Meg and Alice were
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