Murder With Peacocks Read Online Free PDF

the crack of dawn," Mother said, favoring me with a stern look. "Wait till you've been down here for a few weeks, with all the fresh air and proper food, young lady. You'll be getting up with the larks."
      "Don't try to reform me, Mother," I warned. "Of course not, dear," Mother lied, and led Michael into the living room to measure things. He looked as if he would rather stay in the kitchen to ingest more coffee. I could sympathize.
      I had another cup of coffee and contemplated the mess Mother had made in the kitchen while serving Michael, the mess she always made in any kitchen. I had learned to cook and clean early, in self-defense. I finished my coffee and swabbed down the kitchen before taking up the phone and my list of things to do. Fourteen phone calls later I had lost my temper twice and succeeded in crossing exactly one thing off my list. I could hear Mother gently but firmly ordering Michael around in the living room. Well, better him than me. My turn would come. I went outdoors for some fresh air and found Dad busily trimming the hedge.
      He looked relaxed and happy. Of course he nearly always did. After the divorce, Dad had moved in with my sister, Pam, and her husband, Mal. Or more accurately, into the apartment over their garage. It was all of a mile from the family house, and apart from going home to sleep in a different bed, he made remarkably few changes to his life after the divorce. He still divided his time between gardening at Pam's and at Mother's; doing things with the grandchildren; reading great stacks of books; making anachronistic house calls on the friends, neighbors, and relatives who hadn't yet been persuaded that he'd retired from his medical practice; and, most important, pursuing with wild enthusiasm and single-minded devotion whatever odd hobbies happened to seize his attention.
      As soon as Mother decided on a garden wedding, Dad started grooming our yard for the festivities. Once Samantha decided to have an outdoor reception, he began relandscaping the Brewster's grounds. The Brewsters seemed thrilled to have him doing it, though that could change very quickly if all the extra work made their gardener carry out his threat to resign. And Dad was even pitching in occasionally to help Eileen's father prepare for her event.
      All of which seemed very odd. Dad was working overtime to make the weddings a success, and yet, he had never liked Samantha. He was constantly complaining that Eileen took advantage of me. And as for Mother's remarriage to Jake--was he really that cheerful about it?
      Speak of the devil, I thought, there goes Jake. Predictably, creeping along at five miles below the posted speed limit in his nondescript blue sedan. I waved at him.
    He screeched to a halt, rolled down the window, and stuck his head out, looking very distraught.
      "Yes, what is it?" he asked, his voice trembling.
      "Nothing, Mr. Wendell. I was just waving. Sorry if I startled you."
      "Off to fetch your sister-in-law?" Dad asked. "She has a fine morning for flying, doesn't she? From Fort Lauderdale, right?"
      "You-yes," Jake said. "How did you know?"
    "Mother mentioned it," I said.
      "Besides, it's hard to keep secrets in a small town like this," Dad boomed jovially. Mr. Wendell looked alarmed, and more like a startled gray-brown mouse than usual. He rolled his window up, tried to drive away with the emergency brake still on, stopped to release it, and finally rolled slowly off.
      Well, that was not a success, I thought. In fact, it was about as much of a bust as most of my attempts to get to know Jake better. Ah, well; I'd have all summer to get acquainted with my future stepfather.
        "So, what are you up to this morning?" Dad said, rubbing his back while surveying the parts of the hedge he'd finished clipping.
      "Phone calls and errands. Want me to help with that?"
      "No, I have a good idea how I want it done."
      "Just as well; I have a feeling any minute now I'll get