Read Online Murder in the Marketplace by Lora Roberts - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lora Roberts
Tags: Mystery
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absorb this before delivering the punch line. “He’s picking me up tomorrow to show me the ocean.”
With great difficulty I bit my tongue. The girl was sixteen, for heaven’s sake. Either she had some sense, or she didn’t. Either way, I couldn’t chain her to my ankle all day. “Just the two of you?” I had to say it—I couldn’t stop myself.
“No, a whole bunch,” she said carelessly. “Don’t worry. We won’t drink, do drugs, or fuck in the sand.”
I blinked.
“That’s what you were going to warn me about, isn’t it?” She grinned at me. “That’s what my mom and dad would have said, anyway.”
“Not in those exact words, I suspect.”
“Maybe not. Are you shocked?” She sounded hopeful.
“I’ve been in shock since this afternoon,” I said truthfully. She didn’t know the half of it. “Amy, about sex—”
“Listen, Aunt Liz, I’m not going to have sex.” She stared at me earnestly. “Like I said, I did it once. It was gross. And two of my girlfriends had terrible problems—one got pregnant and had an abortion and felt really bad about it, and the other one got chlamydia and had to take these awful drugs. Sex is just more trouble than it’s worth,” she said with a worldly air. “But when I tried to tell my mom that, she freaked. She wanted to send me to the priest for counseling, but another one of my friends had been hit on by a priest, so I said I wouldn’t go, and that made big trouble, too.” She heaved a sigh. “They just wouldn’t listen.”
“I’m listening.” I was, too, fascinated by this glimpse of a girlhood so much different from mine. “Amy, if you feel like you’re in trouble, I’ll come and get you. Just call—” I stopped short.
“You don’t have a phone, though.” Amy shook her head. “I mean, on the one hand, you’re right. Nobody can call you up and yell at you, like my parents or anything. But what about emergencies? It’s, like, a dilemma, huh?”
“Right,” I said hollowly. A dilemma that hadn’t really existed before today. Drake let me give his number to the temp agencies and editors; they left messages that eventually got to me. I’d lost some temp jobs over that, which contributed to Mrs. Rainey’s lack of enthusiasm for me.
It was getting dark, and the mosquitoes had found us. I followed Amy into the house. She looked tired in the bright glow of the living room light.
“Can I go to bed?” She yawned hugely and for a moment my throat caught, remembering Jenifer. “I’m really beat. And Randy is coming early tomorrow—they want to catch the surf at high tide, or something. I wasn’t really listening. They have jobs in the afternoon—Randy and Eric.”
“What other girls are going?” I took the cushions off the couch and yanked the bed part out of its coffin. The mattress had a lumpy look. The sheets were very old, very soft cotton, part of my inheritance from Vivien Greely, the dear lady who had left me her house and contents the year before. Amy lent a hand spreading them, while she told me about the kids she’d met on the corner of University and Waverley downtown.
“Elise has a job at this deli downtown, and she’s the one who said they might have an opening. And Kimberly is doing summer school, but she has tomorrow off for some reason. We’re planning to be back by one or so, when the guys have to clean up for their jobs at the mall. There’s a terrific mall, Kimberly said, right over there.” She pointed in the direction of the Stanford Shopping Center. “That’s a good place to work because you get discounts on really great stuff. But those stores don’t want you to have nose rings or anything, so Elise didn’t apply there.”
Nose rings. “They sound like nice kids,” I said faintly, digging an old quilt out of the cedar chest against the wall.
“You can meet them tomorrow morning,” Amy promised blithely. “I told them we could have breakfast here.” She caught my eye and giggled.
With great difficulty I bit my tongue. The girl was sixteen, for heaven’s sake. Either she had some sense, or she didn’t. Either way, I couldn’t chain her to my ankle all day. “Just the two of you?” I had to say it—I couldn’t stop myself.
“No, a whole bunch,” she said carelessly. “Don’t worry. We won’t drink, do drugs, or fuck in the sand.”
I blinked.
“That’s what you were going to warn me about, isn’t it?” She grinned at me. “That’s what my mom and dad would have said, anyway.”
“Not in those exact words, I suspect.”
“Maybe not. Are you shocked?” She sounded hopeful.
“I’ve been in shock since this afternoon,” I said truthfully. She didn’t know the half of it. “Amy, about sex—”
“Listen, Aunt Liz, I’m not going to have sex.” She stared at me earnestly. “Like I said, I did it once. It was gross. And two of my girlfriends had terrible problems—one got pregnant and had an abortion and felt really bad about it, and the other one got chlamydia and had to take these awful drugs. Sex is just more trouble than it’s worth,” she said with a worldly air. “But when I tried to tell my mom that, she freaked. She wanted to send me to the priest for counseling, but another one of my friends had been hit on by a priest, so I said I wouldn’t go, and that made big trouble, too.” She heaved a sigh. “They just wouldn’t listen.”
“I’m listening.” I was, too, fascinated by this glimpse of a girlhood so much different from mine. “Amy, if you feel like you’re in trouble, I’ll come and get you. Just call—” I stopped short.
“You don’t have a phone, though.” Amy shook her head. “I mean, on the one hand, you’re right. Nobody can call you up and yell at you, like my parents or anything. But what about emergencies? It’s, like, a dilemma, huh?”
“Right,” I said hollowly. A dilemma that hadn’t really existed before today. Drake let me give his number to the temp agencies and editors; they left messages that eventually got to me. I’d lost some temp jobs over that, which contributed to Mrs. Rainey’s lack of enthusiasm for me.
It was getting dark, and the mosquitoes had found us. I followed Amy into the house. She looked tired in the bright glow of the living room light.
“Can I go to bed?” She yawned hugely and for a moment my throat caught, remembering Jenifer. “I’m really beat. And Randy is coming early tomorrow—they want to catch the surf at high tide, or something. I wasn’t really listening. They have jobs in the afternoon—Randy and Eric.”
“What other girls are going?” I took the cushions off the couch and yanked the bed part out of its coffin. The mattress had a lumpy look. The sheets were very old, very soft cotton, part of my inheritance from Vivien Greely, the dear lady who had left me her house and contents the year before. Amy lent a hand spreading them, while she told me about the kids she’d met on the corner of University and Waverley downtown.
“Elise has a job at this deli downtown, and she’s the one who said they might have an opening. And Kimberly is doing summer school, but she has tomorrow off for some reason. We’re planning to be back by one or so, when the guys have to clean up for their jobs at the mall. There’s a terrific mall, Kimberly said, right over there.” She pointed in the direction of the Stanford Shopping Center. “That’s a good place to work because you get discounts on really great stuff. But those stores don’t want you to have nose rings or anything, so Elise didn’t apply there.”
Nose rings. “They sound like nice kids,” I said faintly, digging an old quilt out of the cedar chest against the wall.
“You can meet them tomorrow morning,” Amy promised blithely. “I told them we could have breakfast here.” She caught my eye and giggled.
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