Read Online The Best American Mystery Stories 2012 by Otto Penzler - Free Book Online

utter bewilderment to tearful, fervent denial. What happened instead was nothing she could have conceived of: Olivia Korhonen clapped her hands and began to laugh.
    Her laughter was like cold silver bells, chiming a fraction out of tune, their dainty discordance more jarring than any rusty clanking could have been. Olivia Korhonen said, “Oh, I did wonder if you would ever let yourself understand me. You are such a . . . such a
timorous
woman, you know, Mattie Whalen—frightened of so very much, it is a wonder that you can ever peep out of your house, your little hole in the baseboard. Eyes flicking everywhere, whiskers twitching so frantically . . .” She broke off into a bubbling fit of giggles, while Mattie stared and stared, remembering girls in school hallways who had snickered just so.
    â€œOh, yes,” Olivia Korhonen said. “Yes, Mattie, I will kill you—be very sure of that. But not yet.” She clasped her hands together at her breast and bowed her head slightly, smiling. “Not just yet.”
    â€œ
Why?
Why do you want . . . what have I ever,
ever
done to you?”
    The smile warmed and widened, but Olivia Korhonen was some time answering. When she did, the words came slowly, thoughtfully. “Mattie, where I come from we have a great many sheep, they are one of Finland’s major products. And where you have sheep, of course, you must have dogs. Oh, we do have many wonderful dogs—you should see them handle and guide and work the sheep. You would be so fascinated, I know you would.”
    Her cheeks had actually turned a bit pink with what seemed like earnest enthusiasm. She said, “But Mattie, dear, it is a curious thing about sheep and dogs. Sometimes stray dogs break into a sheepfold, and then they begin to kill.” She did not emphasize the word, but it struck Mattie like a physical blow under the heart. Olivia Korhonen went on. “They are not killing to eat, out of hunger—no, they are simply killing blindly, madly, they will wipe out a whole flock of sheep in a night, and then run on home to their masters and their dog biscuits. Do you understand me so far, Mattie?”
    Mattie’s body was so rigid that she could not even nod her head. Olivia’s softly chiming voice continued. “It is as though these good family dogs have gone temporarily insane. Animal doctors, veterinarians, they think now that the pure
passivity,
the purebred
stupidity
of the sheep somehow triggers—is that the right word, Mattie? I mean it like
to set off
—somehow triggers something in the dog’s brain, something very old. The sheep are blundering around in the pen, bleating in panic, too stupid to protect themselves, and it is all just too much for the dogs—even for sheepdogs sometimes. They simply go mad.” She spread her hands now, leaning forward, graceful as ever. “Do you see now, Mattie? I do hope you begin to see.”
    â€œNo.” The one word was all Mattie could force out between freezing lips. “No.”
    â€œYou are my sheep,” Olivia Korhonen said. “And I am like the dogs. You are a born victim, like all sheep, and it is your mere presence that makes you irresistible to me. Of course, dogs are dogs—they cannot ever wait to kill. But I can. I like to wait.”
    Mattie could not move. Olivia Korhonen stepped back, looked at her wristwatch, and made a light gesture toward the door, as though freeing Mattie from a spell. “Now you had better run along home, dear, for I have company coming. We will practice our strategy for the Bridge Group another time.”
    Mattie sat in her car for a long time, hands trembling, before she felt able even to turn the key in the ignition. She had no memory of driving home, except a vague awareness of impatient honking behind her when she lingered at intersections after the traffic light had changed. When she arrived home she sat by the telephone with