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

Dickensen?”
    “What does Mr. Dickensen look like? Is he cute?”
    “He’s adorable,” I said dryly, “Now get out your lit books and turn to the poem, ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.’ ”
    At lunchtime, I used the pay phone in the dining hall to do what I had been putting off for days: keep my promise to Alec, regarding Lily.
    Lily answered on the first ring. “Oh, you’re back, then,” she said coolly.
    “We’re back. We’ve been back since last week. Question: what on earth were you thinking, telling Marie that a student of mine was suicidal?”
    “What? Oh, that. I just wanted her to tell me where you were, that’s all.”
    “I know that, but it was wrong.”
    “What if it wasn’t?”
    “Huh?”
    Lily went on, “I mean, what if it was true; wouldn’t you want me to get in touch with you?”
    “Well, yes, but—“
    “And it could have been true, you know, so what’s the difference?”
    I sighed. What was the use? I changed the subject. “Listen, Lily, about Alec—”
    “How’s Sam doing?” she interrupted. She’d always been inordinately fond of my cat, and spoiled him at every opportunity.
    “I don’t know.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I told you, I don’t know. He disappeared while we were out of town. I feel terrible about it, but right now, what I called for was—”
    “You should feel terrible. I could have told you that that idiot nephew of Gil’s wouldn’t take proper care of him.”
    “It wasn’t Vern’s fault. He just—ran away. Lily, Alec called last night and I think perhaps—”
    “Don’t change the subject. What are you doing about Sam?”
    “We called the Humane Society and Gil put an ad in the paper. It’s been in there for days. Look, I understand your concern, but it’s not really your business to—”
    She interrupted me yet a third time. “What? Sam, not my business? How dare you, Amelia. I love th—that dear creature. And that makes it my business!”
    “Lily, of course you’re right, but right now I wanted to talk to you about Alec.”
    There was a pause. I could hear her drawing a long breath. “That, Amelia,” she said at last, “is none of your business.” She hung up.
    ~~~
    “Put away your books,” I ordered, rising from my desk at the beginning of the next class, “and pass these back.” I handed a stack of test papers to the front person in each row.
    There was a collective groan.
    “You’ll have until the end of the period. Don’t finish too quickly. This is a tough one, but there’s an extra-credit question.”
    Quiet descended on the room, and I returned to my reverie.
    “Why are you smiling?” an accusing voice murmured.
    I looked over at Serendipity Shea, slumped in the front row seat I’d assigned to her. Her high-gloss lipstick gave her mouth a curious pouting prominence. Now it was firmly turned downward.
    “I love my job,” I said pleasantly and held up a copy of the exam.
    I could tell by her expression she thought my answer revealed me to be the vilest sort of sadist.
    “Everyone should love her job as much as I do,” I added sweetly.
    Serendipity scowled and hunched once more over her paper. A wing of her white-blonde hair flopped down, concealing her face, but from her body language I could guess that she was having trouble with this test.
    I fervently hoped not. In fact, I longed for the girl to get all A’s, especially if it meant I didn’t have to meet with her mother again. Mrs. Brigid Shea was a strident, assertive woman who refused to concede that homework was actually a good thing, not a torture devised by yours truly to ruin her daughter’s social life.
    Think positively, I told myself, scanned the room for paper-peekers, then returned to pleasant thoughts of Gil.
    “There’s the bell,” I declared unnecessarily thirty minutes later. “Put your papers on my desk as you leave, please.”
    Hardy Patchke was the first to leave. “Piece o’ cake,” he said as he handed his test over, and