Read Online Fine Spirits [Spirits 02] by Alice Duncan - Free Book Online Page A

a child.” She glanced quickly at Vi, whose son Paul had been killed in the war. “Oh, Vi, I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . .”
           But Aunt Vi only smiled sadly. “It's all right, Peg. I know what you mean. It is a tragedy, but at least my Paul volunteered to fight for his country. That poor Wagner girl didn't.”
           “I can't imagine Marianne volunteering for anything, much less running away from home, although I wouldn't blame her if she did.”
           “She's shy?” Ma glanced at me, her eyebrows lifted.
           “I always got the impression that she's scared to death
           of her old man. I guess that's not exactly shy, but it was as if she didn't dare move without his permission, just like his wife. Now if it were Stacy Kincaid who'd disappeared, that would be something else. I can definitely imagine Stacy running away from home, probably with a man.”
           “Daisy!”
           Shoot. I'd shocked my mother again. I couldn't win that night, no matter what I said. “Sorry, Ma, but it really wouldn't surprise me if Stacy ran off. Not Marianne, though. She's too . . . too . . . I don't know. Afraid of everything, I guess.”
           Aunt Vi tutted sympathetically. “Poor dear thing.” Aunt Vi was a dear thing herself, and always compassionate regarding other people's problems.
           “I hope some dangerous lunatic didn't get hold of her,” I said, thinking of a few of the crime novels I'd read. My mother and my aunt both turned to stare at me in horror, and I became defensive. “Things like that happen, you know. Mashers and kidnappers and so forth do nab young women from time to time. People like that surely must be crazy or they wouldn't do such things, but from what I've read, they don't often look it. Crazy, I mean.”
           “Daisy! For heaven's sake!”
           The fact that I'd managed to shock my poor mother three or four times in a single evening demonstrates better than anything else how black my mood was. I usually tried to spare Ma's sensibilities. That evening, it was like a demon had taken possession of my brain. Or maybe just my tongue. I snapped, “They exist, Ma. Ravishers of young women and kidnappers and even child murderers. You might not read about the cases in the Pasadena Star News or the Evening Herald , but that doesn't mean horrors like that don't happen.”
           “Good heavens.” Ma clutched the back of a chair, presumably because she felt faint. I hadn't meant to stun her so badly. It irked me that she didn't share what I considered to be my reasonable concerns regarding Marianne Wagner's disappearance and possible explanations for it.
           “Whether they happen or not, we don't need to chat about them at the dinner table or while washing dishes, Daisy Majesty.” Aunt Vi sounded as stern as she was able. She was a firmer disciplinarian than my mother, but that didn't mean much. Her asperity in this instance annoyed me. Darn it, it wasn't my fault the world contained demented people who thought it was a good idea to snatch women and assault and murder them.
           I wanted to slam my dish towel on the rack and stomp off, then throw myself on my bed, have a temper tantrum, and cry for an hour or two. Fortunately, even
I
could recognize such an urge as unusual and unproductive, and I stopped myself before I could explode. I shook my head hard in an effort to loosen my bad mood from its moorings. As I might have expected, given the rest of my evening, shaking didn't help.
           That being the case, and hoping to preserve peace in the family, I said stiffly, “I'm sorry, Vi. You're right. I beg your pardon.” I didn't want to apologize. I wanted these two women, who were the most important females in my life, to understand and value my point of view. Fat chance.
           Vi patted me on the back with a wet, soapy hand. “Fudge, Daisy, don't worry. I know you