Stabbing Stephanie Read Online Free PDF Page B

for him at night. It’s unheard of. What next!”
    â€œI don’t see the harm in it, Puffy. Just because he’s an alcoholic doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. He needs some help.”
    â€œWhich you only too happily gave him.”
    â€œSome help with his problem, I mean,” Jane said, growing impatient. If only she had the nerve to tell Puffy what everyone else in Shady Hills knew—that Puffy’s own husband, Oren, was a raging alcoholic. “Why does he bother you so much?”
    Puffy let out a burst of air in utter exasperation. “Because,” she said, as if speaking to a cretin, “this sort of thing just doesn’t happen in our town, that’s why. Do you think they have bums in Mountain Lakes. Or Essex Fells? I assure you they don’t.” She regarded Jane thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s easy for someone like you to be so liberal.”
    Someone like you. Jane knew that by this, Puffy meant someone who isn’t rich, and resented the remark but decided not to take Puffy up on it.
    â€œReally, Jane,” Puffy scolded, “you owe it to our town to take this up with that police friend of yours. If you’ll do that while I work on Reg, that awful creature will be gone in no time.”
    They were getting nowhere. “It’s been nice seeing you, Puffy. Have a great Thanksgiving.”
    Puffy’s face softened. “Thank you, Jane, and the same to you. We’re having all the girls and their husbands, and all the grandchildren.” She indicated her shopping cart. “That’s why I’m buying two birds.” She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Loony me, when it comes to the rest of the groceries, I let Jasmine shop,” she said, referring to her housekeeper. “But I always select the birds for Thanksgiving. One of my little traditions.”
    â€œHave a great one,” Jane said, and started walking away, but Puffy pursued her.
    â€œJane, wait! I just don’t feel we’ve resolved this issue satisfactorily.”
    Jane frowned. “What issue?”
    â€œOf where our town is going. Of this liberal new element”—Puffy looked Jane up and down—“that’s creeping in. For example, For Sale signs.”
    Jane stared at her in bafflement. “For Sale signs?”
    â€œYes. What do you think of that?”
    â€œOf what?”
    â€œYou mean you don’t know? Jane, people are now putting For Sale signs on their lawns.”
    Jane scratched her head. “And?”
    â€œAnd! We’ve never allowed For Sale signs on lawns in Shady Hills. Didn’t you know that?”
    â€œTo be honest, I can’t say I ever noticed or even thought about it.”
    â€œWell, think about it! How do you think a For Sale sign makes a house look?”
    â€œLike it’s for sale?”
    Puffy just shook her head. “At the rate we’re going, we’ll be Paterson within a year.”
    â€œAll right, Puffy, I promise that if I ever want to sell my house, I’ll put up a For Sale sign only if I’m absolutely desperate.”
    â€œAre you moving?” Puffy asked, alarmed.
    â€œNo, I said ‘if.’ See you soon.” Jane pushed again at her cart.
    â€œSpeaking of moving,” Puffy said, grabbing her own cart and walking along beside Jane, “I’ve had some nice news.”
    Jane stopped and turned, but she just couldn’t smile anymore. In a minute she’d tell Puffy she had to get back to the office. “Nice news?” she repeated flatly.
    â€œMy niece and her husband are moving their offices to Shady Hills. Isn’t that marvelous?”
    â€œYes, that’s very nice.”
    â€œIn fact, Jane, you’ll want to know about this—professionally, I mean. My niece and her husband, they’re publishers. Don’t you, um, sell people’s books to publishers?”
    Jane nodded. Puffy had never quite