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Read Online High Spirits [Spirits 03] by Alice Duncan - Free Book Online
Authors: Alice Duncan
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self-starter viciously.
“Probably.” And what did I care if she did? Not a thing, that’s what. In fact, I hoped she did, which goes to show what a bad mood I was in. I don’t usually wish evil upon people, even people I don’t like.
I was surprised it wasn’t later than it was, but when Sam pulled his Hudson up to the curb, it was only about eleven. There was still a light on in the house. My heart didn’t exactly sing when I saw it, mainly because it no doubt meant Billy was waiting up for me.
Now, here’s the thing: if Billy had been healthy and whole, I’d have thought it was sweet that he stayed up to greet me when I came home from a hard evening’s work conducting séances or whatever. But when my poor mangled leftover-from-the-War Billy waited up for me, it almost always meant he was in more pain than usual, angrier than usual, or had gone to sleep and been awakened by a terrible dream—and I hadn’t been there for him.
Then again, maybe he and Pa were playing cards.
Naw. My luck was never that good.
Therefore, I turned to Sam. “Let me out. I don’t want Billy to know you brought me home. He’s expecting Harold to drive me home in his Bearcat. He’ll know I’ve done something wrong if you show me to the door.”
“At least you admit it was wrong.” Ignoring my wishes, Sam opened his door, climbed out of the car, and started walking to the passenger side to open my door.
I opened my own darned door, furious with him. In a hissing whisper, I said, “Darn it, you said you wouldn’t tell Billy about the speakeasy if I did what you wanted me to do! I agreed to do it, so get back in that car and go away before Billy sees you!”
“It’s all right, Daisy. I’ll just tell him I drove by when you were leaving ... whose house? Where did you tell him you were going to be working?”
I sighed, perceiving he wasn’t going to give up. “Mrs. Kincaid’s, darn you.”
“Perfect,” said he. “I’ll just say I brought Stacy home after she was arrested, and then offered to bring you home. It’s almost the truth.”
I saw his white teeth flash against his Italian skin and wanted to kick him.
“Cheer up,” he said. “At least Billy won’t have to visit you in jail.”
True. The knowledge didn’t cheer me up one tiny little bit.
Spike announced us before we got to the door.
“Good watchdog,” Sam growled.
“Yeah.”
I held my breath, fearing the worst, as I pushed the door open and stooped to greet Billy’s dog. “Don’t eat the shoes, Spike. They didn’t cost much, but they’re one of my favorite pair.” Only then did I dare glance up to look for Billy and try to assess his mood.
By gum, something good happened then for a change. Billy and Pa sat in the living room at the card table. They’d been playing gin rummy, and Billy actually smiled at me! I was so relieved, I darned near cried again.
It soon became clear, however, that I wasn’t out of the woods yet. As soon as Billy saw Sam, he frowned—not at Sam, but at me. “What are you doing with Sam? I thought you were at Mrs. Kincaid’s place?”
I was about to answer with a lie when Sam preempted me with one of his own. Shaking Pa’s hand, he spoke to Billy. “I had to take the Kincaid daughter home from a raid at a speak tonight, and your wife was there. I offered her a ride home.”
The doubt vanished from my husband’s face instantly. It never did that when I lied to him. “That kid’s a real mess. I don’t know why her mother doesn’t send her to a nunnery or something.”
“Probably because they’re Episcopalians and not Roman Catholics,” I said, striving to sound light and frivolous, as if I’d just
“Probably.” And what did I care if she did? Not a thing, that’s what. In fact, I hoped she did, which goes to show what a bad mood I was in. I don’t usually wish evil upon people, even people I don’t like.
I was surprised it wasn’t later than it was, but when Sam pulled his Hudson up to the curb, it was only about eleven. There was still a light on in the house. My heart didn’t exactly sing when I saw it, mainly because it no doubt meant Billy was waiting up for me.
Now, here’s the thing: if Billy had been healthy and whole, I’d have thought it was sweet that he stayed up to greet me when I came home from a hard evening’s work conducting séances or whatever. But when my poor mangled leftover-from-the-War Billy waited up for me, it almost always meant he was in more pain than usual, angrier than usual, or had gone to sleep and been awakened by a terrible dream—and I hadn’t been there for him.
Then again, maybe he and Pa were playing cards.
Naw. My luck was never that good.
Therefore, I turned to Sam. “Let me out. I don’t want Billy to know you brought me home. He’s expecting Harold to drive me home in his Bearcat. He’ll know I’ve done something wrong if you show me to the door.”
“At least you admit it was wrong.” Ignoring my wishes, Sam opened his door, climbed out of the car, and started walking to the passenger side to open my door.
I opened my own darned door, furious with him. In a hissing whisper, I said, “Darn it, you said you wouldn’t tell Billy about the speakeasy if I did what you wanted me to do! I agreed to do it, so get back in that car and go away before Billy sees you!”
“It’s all right, Daisy. I’ll just tell him I drove by when you were leaving ... whose house? Where did you tell him you were going to be working?”
I sighed, perceiving he wasn’t going to give up. “Mrs. Kincaid’s, darn you.”
“Perfect,” said he. “I’ll just say I brought Stacy home after she was arrested, and then offered to bring you home. It’s almost the truth.”
I saw his white teeth flash against his Italian skin and wanted to kick him.
“Cheer up,” he said. “At least Billy won’t have to visit you in jail.”
True. The knowledge didn’t cheer me up one tiny little bit.
Spike announced us before we got to the door.
“Good watchdog,” Sam growled.
“Yeah.”
I held my breath, fearing the worst, as I pushed the door open and stooped to greet Billy’s dog. “Don’t eat the shoes, Spike. They didn’t cost much, but they’re one of my favorite pair.” Only then did I dare glance up to look for Billy and try to assess his mood.
By gum, something good happened then for a change. Billy and Pa sat in the living room at the card table. They’d been playing gin rummy, and Billy actually smiled at me! I was so relieved, I darned near cried again.
It soon became clear, however, that I wasn’t out of the woods yet. As soon as Billy saw Sam, he frowned—not at Sam, but at me. “What are you doing with Sam? I thought you were at Mrs. Kincaid’s place?”
I was about to answer with a lie when Sam preempted me with one of his own. Shaking Pa’s hand, he spoke to Billy. “I had to take the Kincaid daughter home from a raid at a speak tonight, and your wife was there. I offered her a ride home.”
The doubt vanished from my husband’s face instantly. It never did that when I lied to him. “That kid’s a real mess. I don’t know why her mother doesn’t send her to a nunnery or something.”
“Probably because they’re Episcopalians and not Roman Catholics,” I said, striving to sound light and frivolous, as if I’d just