Murder With Reservations Read Online Free PDF Page A

know which job he found out about,” Kathy said. “He didn’t tell Mom. I can’t keep track of them all. How many has it been now: five, six?”
    “Seven, including the Greek diner,” Helen said. “Eight if you count the time Margery roped me into working on a cruise ship. Where is that worthless bum staying in Lauderdale? Did Rob get a hotel or is he sponging off some woman?”
    “He didn’t say. I’ve told you all I know. I called right away, so you could take precautions.”
    Sensible Kathy, Helen thought. She’s identified the problem and expects me to fix it. But this can’t be fixed.
    “Precautions?” Helen said. “What precautions? Can I get an anti-Rob vaccine? Can I board up my windows and hope he blows out to sea? What the hell am I going to do?”
    Margery and Peggy had been frankly eavesdropping. Now Margery spoke up. “You’re going to quit badgering your sister, Helen. It’s not Kathy’s fault that jerk is coming to town. You’re going to thank her for caring enough to make this call. You’re going to tell her you’ll be fine and your Florida friends will watch out for you. Here, give me that.”
    Margery grabbed the phone from Helen. “Kathy, did you hear me?” she asked. “You have enough to worry about with a house, a husband and kids. I’ll handle Helen.”
    Margery listened and nodded, then said, “Rob’s nothing! A minor-league lowlife. Don’t you worry, Kathy. There isn’t a man alive who can get past me.”
    She snapped the phone shut, then turned to Helen. The landlady’s hair was wreathed in smoke and she blew more out her nostrils, like an irritated old dragon. “Now, Helen Hawthorne, you’re going to tell me the truth for a change. It’s the only way I can help you.”
    “I—” Helen said.
    “No, I’m not giving you time to make up another lie. Start talking or start packing.”
    Margery’s face was hard as New Hampshire granite and just as weathered. Helen knew her suitcases would be on the sidewalk if she didn’t talk. She stalled. “What about Peggy?”
    “What about her?” Margery said. “If Rob is looking for you, then he’ll come here. You’ve dragged Peggy into this mess. She has a right to know. Why is your ex really after you? Did he beat you? That’s what you told me. That’s why I was supposed to watch out for him. Is Rob violent?”
    “No,” Helen said. “I attacked him.”
    “Awk,” Pete said.
    Peggy dropped her wineglass. Helen heard it shatter on the concrete. No one moved to clean it up.
    “Well, well. This is interesting. I thought you were a victim,” Margery said.
    “I am,” Helen said, suddenly angry, although she didn’t know if it was at Margery or herself. “But I did it to myself. For seventeen years I was Mrs. Perfect Yuppie. I worked my rear end off in a corporate job. I had this brand-new mansion in a St. Louis suburb. I was the director of pensions and employee benefits for a big company.”
    Scenes from Helen’s old life flashed before her: the beige suits, the bland conversations, the dull meetings and endless memos. And the money. She’d made mountains of money then, compared to her current job. Helen had earned a hundred thousand dollars a year. It was all gone, most of it blown on things that bored her. The rest went to Rob, her lawyer and bad investments.
    “Go on,” Margery said. “You’ve just started.”
    “Rob was a top salesman. He made a good living. We’d been married ten years when he was fired. Then he couldn’t find the right job.”
    “How long did he look?” Margery said.
    “Seven years,” Helen said.
    Peggy made a small choking sound. Margery blew out a cloud of smoke. “What did he live on all that time?” she said.
    “Me,” Helen said. She hung her head. She’d been as gullible as a schoolgirl. “He strung me along with excuses. Sometimes I’d get angry and tell Rob to find a job, any job, even bagging groceries. Rob would sweet-talk me with flowers and candlelight dinners