The Third Victim Read Online Free PDF Page A

it?”
    Perched precariously on a prop stool, Sally raised a flip, ink-stained hand. Sally periodically fingered her typewriter ribbon, she’d once confided, purposely to smudge her hands. It never hurt, she said, to remind the troops that she was the store’s sole copywriter. As opposed to, say, gimlet-eyed buyers and their retinue of scurrying assistants.
    “Over the weekend,” Sally said, “I got taken out to dinner three times. Budgetwise, I’m way ahead. So it’s my treat. When you acquire a similar proficiency, you can buy the pastry.” She deftly divided the bearclaw, at the same time gesturing toward the chafing dish. “Go ahead. Draw. Are you going to have it finished in time?”
    “Yes, I think so.”
    “I saw Tom Southern taking his ever-loving leave. Or should I say self-loving? Are you giving him reason to hope, as the saying goes?”
    She smiled down at her drawing board. “You’ve got it reversed, Sally. I think that Tom feels he’s giving me reason to hope.”
    “Well, are you hoping?”
    “I don’t know. I haven’t decided.” She’d tried to make the remark sound light, matching Sally’s effervescence. But it had been a poor effort, she knew. Looking up, she saw Sally frowning, nibbling thoughtfully at her lower lip. Joanna knew that expression: Sally was about to jump off the high board.
    “I don’t really know Kevin all that well,” Sally began, choosing her words. “What I know about him I like. He seems to be a straight, honest guy who’s maybe coming up on thirty the hard way. Kevin got a fast start, I guess, and sometimes that can be a problem—like a girl who’s born too pretty. But, anyhow, I like him. And if you two get back together, I’d personally applaud. It’s strictly none of my business, of course. Divorce is a very private affair, who should know better than me? However—” She took time to finish her half of the bearclaw. The pause served as emphasis, Joanna knew, separating the introduction from the real message.
    “However, while I don’t really know Kevin, like I said, I do know Tom. I mean, I’ve been working here for three years. For two years I’ve been divorced. So, like lots of other girls, before me and after me, I had my chance with Tom. And I took it. And—” Sally finished her coffee, pausing one last time. “And, as far as I was concerned, it wasn’t a real good deal. Taking my chance, I mean. See, I—ah—I guess I was more vulnerable than I thought, after my divorce. I mean, I’d never seen a man I couldn’t handle. Or at least that’s the way I remember my adventures in premarital sex. But with Tom I really got racked up. And I wouldn’t want that to happen to you, Joanna. I mean, my marriage wasn’t blessed with children, as the saying goes. So in the long run, it didn’t matter much. Tom inflicted a few lacerations, which eventually healed. Later I got in a few licks myself. But then, I’m a scuffler. You, on the other hand…” She let it go unfinished.
    Joanna swallowed the last of her bearclaw, then drained the coffee cup. She tossed the cup into the wastebasket. Then she said quietly, “Thanks, Sally. Thanks very much.”
    “You’re very welcome, I’m sure.” Sally tossed her own cup decisively into the basket. “Well,” she said briskly, “what’re you doing about the Tarot menace?”
    “Locking the doors. What else?”
    “You should buy some Mace,” came the prompt reply. “I can get you some, if you like. They don’t call it Mace, because the stuff’s illegal. But it’s the same thing. You get a purse-size aerosol for a dollar ninety-eight. If I lived on the ground floor, like you do, I’d get some. Believe it.”
    Joanna slowly shook her head. “I couldn’t get my car started this morning. That comes before Mace. But thanks anyhow.” She hesitated, then decided to tell Sally about the switch-blade knife. Telling of the incident, listening to her own words, her misgivings sounded silly.
    “If I were