Free The Kindness of Strangers (Skip Langdon Mystery #6) (The Skip Langdon Series) by Julie Smith Page B

Kenny?”
    Thirteen-year-old Kenny, sitting quietly at the kitchen table all this time, got up and began gathering silverware. “This one, or the one in the dining room?”
    “Sheila’s not here, so we can be intime, I guess.”
    “What’s that mean?” Kenny looked so earnest Skip wanted to kiss him. He was desperate, as usual, to do nothing wrong, to make sure everything was perfect.
    “It means the kitchen.”
    He nodded, a man with a mission.
    Skip said, “Layne, remember those witches I met a couple of years ago?”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said Layne. “Don’t start on the witches again.”
    Kenny said, “I like witches.”
    “You do?” Layne said. “Well, if you like ‘em, old buddy, you get your mojo workin’. I’m afraid of them myself.”
    “Oh, Layne, you’ve got it wrong. They’re gentle as kittens. What can it hurt? I’ll call them and ask if they can do a healing.”
    “Just so I don’t have to meet them.”
    “Well, I don’t know whether you have to or not.”
    “They probably have to lay on hands or something.”
    Kenny said, “I want to go if you go to a coven meeting.”
    Skip was surprised. “Why? Are you expecting vampire makeup and black fingernails? Believe me, it’s not like that.”
    “Oh, Auntie, I know what a witch is.” He sounded disgusted. “We had one come in and talk to our class. They’re into goddesses and myths.”
    “And you like that?” She would have thought a thirteen-year-old boy would prefer some fantasy form of Satanism.
    He shrugged. “Yeah. I think it’s cool.”
    Jimmy Dee ruffled his hair. “I think you’re cool.”
    Kenny was the gentlest of children, unlike Sheila, who could be rambunctious. As a result, he got more rewards from adults, which bothered Skip sometimes—she hated seeing him work so hard to be perfect. “Why do you think it’s cool?” she said.
    “All those stories. Mythology and stuff. Oh, yeah, and magic. Everybody likes magic.”
    “Okay. I’ll see if I can get you in.” He really is too cute for words.
    Dee-Dee sighed. “You’re going to call them?”
    Layne sneezed again. “Yes. She is.”
    The Crabmeat Extravaganza was something with cheese and eggplant and artichokes (besides crabmeat, of course): “My own concoction,” Dee-Dee said proudly, but Kenny left half of it on his plate.
    When he had begged to go, been chided for failure to eat, and finally been excused, Layne said, “Oh, well. Sheila probably wouldn’t even have pretended.”
    “Where is she, anyway?” said Skip, who had been invited at the last minute, on grounds that they had too much because Sheila was out.
    “At Torian’s.” Dee-Dee and Layne exchanged a look.
    Skip noticed they’d been doing that more and more lately, like married people.
    “What is it?” she said.
    “What did you think of Torian?” Dee-Dee asked.
    “Nice. Shy but nice.” She shrugged, trying to figure out what he was getting at. “Inoffensive. Why?”
    “I don’t know. I just notice Sheila’s getting weirder and weirder lately—maybe since she started hanging with Torian.”
    “More obstreperous, you mean. That’s called adolescence, Dee-Dee darling. They just get that way.”
    “I don’t know. I think she’s less obstreperous. She’s even a little withdrawn; she spends a lot of time in her room.”
    “Teenagers are like cats—they have important business that doesn’t involve mere humans.”
    Layne said, “Tell her what’s really bothering you.”
    “Oh, all right.” Dee-Dee turned to Skip. “That business with Darryl the other day. What’s with that child?”
    “Oh, that. Well, you’re right. She went too far.”
    “You know how I feel about Darryl—”
    Layne said, “I don’t want to hear about it.”
    Dee-Dee gave him a flirtatious look. Skip said, “Quit being cute, you two.”
    “Darryl’s the man I’d marry if it weren’t for Layne—”
    “He handled it really well.”
    Dee-Dee nodded. “A gentleman to the core. But