Murder in Wonderland Read Online Free PDF Page A

awkward farewells to each other, and one by one they left.
                  All except for Del, who gave Allie a much-needed hug and an invitation to stay the night at her place.
                  "Alright if I bring the cat?"
                  "If he doesn't want to watch TLC, there might be a problem. Otherwise, he's more than welcome. Oh, I'm sorry to do this to you, but I don't know what else to do. Ben gave me this."
                  In her hand was Tori Cardinal's cellphone.
                  "What are you doing with this?"
                  "One of the twins handed it to Ben. She picked it up off the floor and said she didn't know what to do with it. Ben gave it to me with the same phrase. So now I'm giving it to you."
                  Allie shook her head in disbelief. The whole day was now one giant unreality.
                  "Thanks," she said. "I'll pack up some stuff and meet you over at your place."
                  Del left, and Allie was alone in the house.
                  Really alone.
                  Life had been sucked out of the place, and it terrified her.
                  And now a small, solid proof right in her hand that what had happened had actually happened. This was no unreality.
                  Troubling thoughts came to her mind. Like, what if Tori got a text or a call? It almost made her laugh. Gallows humor was sickening at best, she'd always thought. Now, she understood why people tend to laugh in situations like this. It's the sound of your soul trembling.
                  She turned the phone over in her hand. The screen flickered to life. In a fit of morbid curiosity, she swiped the screen to unlock it. Tori had no password activated. She opened the text messages app.
                  The words "croquet mallet" were gone.

7
     
                  "I really want to go back to my house," Allie said around a mouthful of brie and grilled pears. "You can't stop me."
                  March was turning out to be a lovely month, with prematurely warming days, stiff breezes that carried the scents of spring on them, and clearing skies and senses. Allie and Del sat around a wrought-iron table outside the Creek Falls café, basking in sun and farm-fresh foods.
                  "That place is too big for you. Move in with me," said Del, shaking a spinach wrap free of its loose ingredients. "I work during the day. You can sit around and...you know...do whatever it is you do... What do you do all day anyway?"
                  "Cut it out. I have things to do. I read. I plan. I shop."
                  "You can have all that plus companionship."
                  "You? I can't even tolerate you for the length of lunch."
                  "Not me. A man. A life-partner? You know that Sgt. Beauchenne was looking at you with googly eyes."
                  "He's too old for me."
                  "Ah yes, I keep forgetting you like them fresh out of high school."
                  "Enough. I’ve got my books. And my dreams. That's enough."
                  "For some."
                  "Eat your food."
                  "Not for nothin'," said Del, "but won't you feel a little, I don't know, uncomfortable in there after yesterday?"
                  "It's my house. And it's Hitler's sweater."
                  Del stopped chewing, her mouth still full. She looked around, then back at Allie, and began chewing again. "I'm sorry; I may have been abducted by aliens just then. I think I missed something."
                  "There was this psychological study where they asked a bunch of people if they'd rather wear a sweater that belonged to Hitler or Mr. Rogers. You probably guessed that