Death Dangles a Participle (Miss Prentice Cozy Mystery Series) Read Online Free PDF

skin problems. Judith had a bad—and, I was sure, unprofessional—habit of discussing the medical condition of members of the populace at large.
    I opened the top of the copier. “Would you like to copy anything?”
    She smiled archly. “No thanks. I’m just waiting out the traffic jam.” She waved her hand toward the hallway. “But don’t mind me. You go right ahead.”
    While I busied myself at the copy machine, Judith pulled a compact from her purse and began dabbing at an already well-powdered nose.
    “Did you have a nice Christmas?” I asked, making conversation.
    Judith squinted into her compact. “Just lovely, thank you. I went skiing in the Laurentians,” she said, referring to a popular Canadian vacation spot. “I always promised myself I’d learn to ski someday, and I did. Of course, I’m no expert, but I know how it’s done now.”
    “That’s marvelous, Judith.”
    I was surprised. Such a trip was expensive. How on earth could she have afforded it? As a part-timer, she earned even less than I did.
    Her eyes slid over toward me. “How’s married life treating you?” she asked, returning her compact to her purse.
    “Just fine, thanks.” I left it at that, but I could see by her expression that she wasn’t satisfied.
    I was fishing about in my mind for another evasive answer when the door rattled open, and science teacher Blakely Knight strode in. The din from the hallway was abruptly cut short when he slammed the door unceremoniously behind him, muttered something unrepeatable, and headed for the row of message boxes on the back hall.
    Judith, deterred neither by the racket nor my vagueness, probed some more. “How was the honeymoon?”
    “Honeymoon?” Blakely demanded as he shoved his dome-topped lunchbox into his cubbyhole and pulled a sheaf of notes from his memo box. “Who had a honeymoon?” He held his messages up like a hand of playing cards and peeked over them to leer at me. “You?”
    Before I could throttle her into silence, Judith blurted, “That’s right. She married Gil Dickensen over the Christmas break. You know, the newspaper editor.”
    “Really?” He tossed most of his notes into the wastebasket and one dark, sardonic eyebrow lifted as he looked me up and down. “I’m disappointed, Amelia. I thought you might wait for me to finish sowing my wild oats.”
    I gave him the cold stare such a comment deserved. “Your oats and anything else of yours, for that matter, is—I mean, are—no business of mine.”
    I flounced out the door, followed closely by Judith and the sound of Blakely’s mocking laughter. So much for trying to make a snappy rejoinder.
    The hallway was quieter now, and Judith’s voice carried, though she spoke sotto voce . “Blakely can be a bit of a rascal at times.”
    Boor is more like it.
    “It’s almost understandable when you know his family background. His father grew up here, and he was quite a dog in his day, if you know what I mean.” She tittered in a flustered manner. “I knew his mother too. She named Blakely after a hero in a romance novel, and I must say, he is intelligent and attractive.”
    As we parted company at the foot of the stairs next to the nurse’s office, she rolled her eyes provocatively. “You two might have gotten together if you hadn’t gotten married.” Her tone implied that I’d missed a golden opportunity. She sighed. “We’ll never know now, will we?” Smiling regretfully, she closed the door of her office.
    “No, we won’t, thank goodness,” I muttered and headed down the hall.
    “Miss Prentice,” said Hardy Patschke accusingly as I entered my classroom, “the late bell just rang.”
    I smiled at him and pointed to the blackboard where I had written, “Mrs. Dickensen.” “That’s my new name. Five extra points on Friday’s quiz for everyone who remembers to use it.”
    There was a chorus of greetings. “Good morning, Mrs. Dickensen.”
    “Are you gonna give us homework, Mrs.