Murder in a Minor Key Read Online Free PDF Page B

the third or fourth instance, I became inured. Now, I simply toss the letters, erase the messages, and go about my business. As you can see, I’m perfectly hale and hardy, perky even.”
    He tucked his chin down and batted his eyelashes at me. I couldn’t help but smile.
    “You can make jokes, Wayne, but it’s really not a laughing matter. Most of the time, the kinds of people who make threats like that get satisfaction just thinking they’re scaring you. But you can’t count on that. You could be in real danger. Why don’t you ask the phone company for Caller ID, so you can see the number of the person making the call and report them?”
    “I’m not sure I want to know who they are. They might be my friends.” He grinned, and added, “Tell you what. If they get me, I’ll leave you my antique Chinese box. You’ll love it, all kinds of drawers and hidden compartments.”
    “Wayne, don’t kid about that.”
    “Don’t worry about me, Jessica. I’m fine, and I’ve learned to ignore these messages with typical New Orleans aplomb. You know, it’s ingrained in our personalities from childhood not to take life too seriously. Laissez les bons temps rouler, and all that. We live for the day, the hour, the minute even. It’s part of our charm.”
    Although Wayne was flippant about the threats made against his life, I could sense tension beneath his show of bravado. “I’ve been on the receiving end of death threats, too,” I admitted. “I know what you’re going through, and it’s not a comfortable feeling.”
    “You have?” He was obviously astonished. Frowning, he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You never told me,” he accused.
    “There’s still a lot we don’t know about each other,” I answered. “It’s not something I enjoy discussing any more than you do, but it’s important to take action.”
    “Tell me what happened.”
    I took a deep breath, struggling to find simple words to describe what had been such a disturbing experience. “It was an obsessed reader,” I said at last. “He sent me threatening notes at every stop on my book tour, said he was watching me and would know when his time had come.”
    “Did you hire a bodyguard?”
    “I came close once, but changed my mind at the last minute. I didn’t want to give the perpetrator such power over my life.” As I talked to Wayne, I could feel the fear and the anger that had filled me during those days flowing back. I hurried to conclude the story.
    “It was not a successful tour for me, although the books sold very well,” I said dryly. “I notified the police in every city, but since I wasn’t staying anywhere for very long, there wasn’t a lot they could do.”
    “You see?” Wayne interrupted.
    I held up my hand to stall his comments. “But when I got home,” I continued, “our sheriff, Mort Metzger, conducted an investigation, set up a stakeout, and caught the fellow.”
    “Where is he now?”
    “In a mental hospital. I hated pressing charges, but it was the only way to ensure the stalker got the treatment he needed. I fervently hope the doctors will be able to help him conquer his problems.”
    “You’re very generous,” Wayne remarked. “If my stalker is ever caught, I hope he spends the rest of his life on a chain gang, pounding boulders into gravel.”
    As we’d been talking, our waiter had slipped plates of baked Alaska in front of us. It was a spectacular dessert, the warm meringue, delicately browned, coating cold ice cream, the combination of textures and temperature a delight to the tongue.
    Wayne sat back, wiped his lips with his napkin, patted his stomach, and blew out a satisfied sigh.
    “Terrific! Never a disappointment.”
    “Yes, it’s really wonderful.”
    “Let’s talk music. Do you remember the jazz lessons I gave you last year, Jessica?”
    “I recall going to more concerts and performances than I’d ever been to in my life. And I remember you telling me that the biggest