A Fit of Tempera Read Online Free PDF

reflex. Renie didn’t move at all, but clamped a hand over her mouth. Iris screamed again, then rushed inside the studio. Unable to contain herself, Judith followed her.
    Riley Tobias lay facedown on the floor, one hand flung out, the other at an awkward angle by his side. A bright orange stain spread out on the floor under his body. Judith’s first reaction was that it was blood, but of course she was mistaken: It was merely oil paint, used to add brighter nuances to “The Nerd.”
    Nonetheless, Riley Tobias was dead.
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    Iris Takisaki crouched on the studio floor, rocking back and forth, her hands covering her face. A very pale Renie had now joined the other two women.
    â€œWhat happened?” she asked in a hoarse voice. “His heart?”
    Judith was trying to examine Riley without touching him. He was facedown, but she could tell his color was an ugly bluish gray. With unsteady fingers, she flicked at the thick hair that grew down over his collar. A little groan surged up from her throat. Iris didn’t seem to notice, but Renie caught her cousin’s reaction.
    â€œWhat is it?” Renie demanded.
    Judith swallowed hard. “It’s picture-hanging wire, I’d guess.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s been strangled.”
    Iris’s head jerked up. She stared at Judith. “What are you talking about?” Her words were thick, almost incoherent.
    Judith closed her eyes for just an instant. “There’s some kind of wire around Riley’s neck, Iris. He’s been strangled.”
    Iris shook her head, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until Judith thought her neck would snap. A high-pitched cry tore from her throat and seemed to ricochet off the big panes of glass that illuminated the studio with the light of the dying day.
    â€œCrazy!” Iris shrieked. “That’s crazy! You’re crazy!”
    Renie had a hand on Judith’s arm, as if to assure her not only that she wasn’t crazy, but that, as always, she—Renie—was there to support her cousin in an hour of need. Judith silently acknowledged Renie, but her first concern was for Iris, who was bordering on hysterics.
    Then Iris stopped shrieking and grew very still. She turned a drawn, horrified face to the cousins. “But that is crazy,” she said in a not-quite-normal tone. “It has to be. You mean we’re talking about murder?”
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    It was always murder . Or so it seemed to Judith. It was a violent world, it always had been, yet unnatural death seemed to dog Judith’s footsteps. The B&B brought her into close contact with hundreds of strangers every year, most of them decent, kind, gentle people. But occasionally there was the volatile guest capable of smashing up the furniture, jumping out of a window, or committing murder. To make matters worse, some of Judith’s travels had brought her face-to-face with malicious mayhem. Now the rustic tranquility of her longtime sanctuary at the cabin had also been invaded. It was no wonder that her husband rarely confided in her about his routine homicide investigations. He knew she was already too well acquainted with violence.
    Judith’s feet felt like lead as she held a hand under Iris Takisaki’s elbow to guide her along the gravel drive that led to the highway. They could see for a half mile in each direction, from the easterly curve in the road where the Green Mountain Inn and Grocery was located, to the west where the highway followed the Big Bend in the river.
    The Woodchuck Auto Court was situated across the road from Nella Lablatt’s little house. Indeed, Nella and her fifth—and final—husband had once owned the autocourt, back in the thirties. Then Franklin Delano Roosevelt had nominated Nella for government service, and the Lablatts had forsaken their commercial enterprise for the federal pork barrel.
    It seemed to Judith that subsequent owners hadn’t done