Read Online The Merchant of Menace by Jill Churchill - Free Book Online Page A

Jeffry," Pet said in such a formal tone that it sounded like a verbal curtsy.
    As soon as she'd gone, Todd came in with his friend Elliott and they had to be severely reprimanded to stay out of the fudge and to quit making fun of the way it looked. Katie brought her friend Jenny to the house as well. Jenny's mother had sent chips and dip with them which had suffered only a few depredations along the way.
    Suzie Williams showed up at the same time with four bags of ice and a half-set Jell-O salad. "Sorry, it was the best I could do. Inventory week. Want me to put the ice in your basement freezer?”
    Mike had spontaneously decided to make one last vacuum-cleaner run through the downstairs rooms and they were all having to shout over the noise. Jane glanced at Addie, who was looking befuddled at the Grand Central Station atmosphere.
    Addie caught the look and asked, "Is it always like this around here?"
    “Not always," Jane said, trying to sound very calm and competent. "Sometimes it's quiet. Sometimes it's worse. Remember slumber parties?"
    “My girls never had them," Addie said. "I was gone too much of the time in the evenings when they were the slumber party age. My sister helped me take care of them. I didn't feel I could burden her with that.”
    This gave Shelley another conversational gambit to pursue and she took off after it like a greyhound. Jane could tell by Shelley's too-polite tone and faintly brittle smile that she wasn't really taking to Addie VanDyne. She also knew full well that Shelley would know better than to let Addie know how she felt.
    Jane set a big pasta pot full of seasoned apple cider on the stove and checked her list once more. Done. She was done! All that remained was to set everything out on the table when the gang of singers got close to her house.
    Suzie emerged from the basement. "Omigawd!" Jane exclaimed. "I forgot you were down there, Suzie. You scared me to death!"
    “Your son and his friend are playing a bloodand-guts game on your computer. I hung around for a while to watch. Cool stuff. Gotta go put on my thermal undies and sing my brains out." She looked at Addie, to whom she'd been introduced on her way to the basement. "You're not going out in that outfit, are you?”
    Addie obviously didn't know whether to be offended or amused. "No, I'm staying inside. I can hold the fort here if you want to go along, Jane."
    “I'm just going to watch from the front porch," Jane said. "I've had too long a day to wade through the snow."
    “How does this work?" Addie asked. "If everybody's singing, who's being sung to?”
    Shelley answered. "The couple at the far end of the street start by going next door. Then the people in that house can join them to go to the next. There are a number of neighbors, some of the older ones in particular, who don't want to go out in the cold. And there are a few like Jane who couldn't carry a tune if it had handles attached."
    “Cruel, Shelley," Jane said with a laugh. "True, but cruel.”
    Shelley and Suzie left together, but Shelley was back a moment later, looking grim. "Jane, you're not going to like this," she said. "But there's a television camera crew set up at the end of the block.”
    As Jane had feared, Lance King's gracious bowing out had been a sham. For reasons of his own, he'd gotten his teeth into the neighborhood party and was determined to do his newscast from the site.
    “But why?" Jane wondered aloud to Shelley. "His speciality is rabid exposés. How could he have whipped one up so fast and who's his intended victim?"
    “I have no idea. But there might be a bright side," Shelley said. "I never watch the channel he's on anymore because he's so nasty it makes my blood boil to even see him. Maybe he's mellowed."
    “Or maybe the station manager had forced him to do some positive stories. Unlikely, but possible," Jane said.
    “Who is this person you're talking about?" Addie put in. Jane had forgotten that Addie was there.
    “A local rabble-rouser