Free Tickled to Death by Joan Hess

Agatha Anne convinced her that it would cost a bundle and she’d still want a divorce in the end. My wife’s what you call a pragmatist.”
    I ignored his jibe about my purported profession. “Divorce can be stressful.”
    “Barry seems to be holding up damn well. He took his share of the assets and bought a houseboat. Now he lives down in Key West, drinking rum and ogling college girls in bikinis. He was an investment broker, so I always thought he had an account on the side that Georgie never knew about. Helluva retirement, considering he’sin his mid-forties. Surf, sun, and lots of sleek nubile skin.”
    While his ex-wife has a nervous breakdown, I thought but did not say. I made myself a drink, then went down the steps to the yard. There was a faint path through the high grass to the edge of the lake. I carefully made my way to the narrow swath of rocks where Dick’s first wife had taken her swan swim in the moonlight.
    From here I could see only the top story and roof of Dunling Lodge. Even if Wharton and Livia had been awake, they would have had to go beyond their patio and partway down the hill in order to see anything. And supposedly there’d been nothing to see except a woman slipping out of her clothes, finishing off a decanter of brandy, and easing out into the inky water. With that quantity of alcohol in her blood, she might have splashed about, but the sound would have been lost in the darkness.
    I heard a footstep behind me. Hoping it was not the loathsome Sid, I looked over my shoulder. Dick regarded me for a moment, then said, “Investigating the scene of the crime?”
    “Escaping from Sid, actually,” I said as I picked up a rock and tossed it into the water. It sank with a tiny plop. Ripples formed, but within seconds the surface was as imperturbable as Dick’s expression.

5
    “But you have to go to the marina,” Luanne whimpered as we struggled over my overnight bag like spoiled nursery-school children. We were in front of Dick’s house, where our undignified dance was being observed only by a mockingbird perched on the chimney. It was not yet eight o’clock in the morning, but I wanted to go by my apartment and pick up the newspaper before I went to the Book Depot. A day without international crises—and a crossword puzzle—is like a day without sunshine.
    I finally prevailed and tossed the bag in the backseat of my car. “No, I don’t have to go to the marina. I don’t have to do anything except go back to Farberville and open the store. Yesterday my horoscope said to anticipate an abundance of tangible assets today. I can’t risk offending the planets.”
    “Captain Gannet ordered Bubo not to talk to any of us. You can pretend to be a reporter oreven just a tourist who heard about the accident, then listen to his story. How long can it take?”
    I consulted my watch. “Too long. Look, Luanne, I came here as promised and politely listened to Agatha Anne carry on about eagles and Georgiana about her ex-husband. I did not stick a fork in Sid’s hand when he pinched my derrière, nor did I scream when I was hunting for a blanket and Jillian loomed behind me in the hallway like some character out of a bad movie. I was a model houseguest. Now I’m going to concentrate on being a model bookseller.”
    “Agatha Anne and I think there must be some wrinkle in Bubo’s story that Gannet finds odd. I’ve tried several times to bring up the subject, but Bubo won’t say a word about the day of the accident. Someone with your deviousness could get it out in no time flat.”
    “Deviousness? Is that to imply you regard me as a contemporary Ms. Machiavelli?”
    Before she could offer an acceptable apology, Dick came to the door with the cordless telephone. “Claire, you have a call from your daughter. She sounds agitated….”
    I did not leap over the begonias, but instead reluctantly went around them to accept the telephone. “Hello, dear,” I said.
    “You have to come get us Right This