Free Elizabeth Zelvin - Bruce Kohler 04 - Death Will Save Your Life by Elizabeth Zelvin Page A

Barbara spat back.
    “I did those women a favor! What a hypocrite that man was. Even namby-pamby little Honey deserved better. And I loved Feather. I brought her up. I would have helped her get away from that asshole she married, but she wouldn’t go.”
    So now killing Madhouse was only doing Feather a second favor. I hoped Barbara wasn’t about to say so.
    “You tried to drown my best friend.”
    That would be me. I felt warm and fuzzy.
    “Best friend!” Her voice dripped contempt. “I suppose you call yourself a feminist. You think your men are different. No men are different.”
    “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Trust Barbara to find the Al-Anon comeback. It was supposed to end the conversation, but Barbara, being Barbara, kept talking. “If Melvin was such a hypocrite, why did you get involved with him again? You were already divorced.”
    “Ha! You think that makes a difference?” Annabel lunged forward and grabbed at Barbara’s hair. The boats rocked wildly.
    Leaning heavily on the branch, I hopped toward the edge of the water. If I could get in deep enough to float, my injured ankle wouldn’t matter.
    “So why did you go back to him?” Barbara struggled to keep her balance as she twisted her face away from Annabel’s questing claws.
    “Would you believe me if I said he was good in bed?”
    “There must have been more.”
    “I’ve never met anyone with more charisma than Mel. I felt twice as alive when I was with him. You probably didn’t feel it. It’s this place! It damped him down. He wasn’t at his best here.”
    Women! They can turn even a life-and-death struggle into a therapy group. They had forgotten me. I inched toward them.
    “You may be right,” Barbara said. Another Al-Anon comeback. “Anyhow, what bed? You couldn’t be seen together. You had to go sneaking around in the dark.”
    “I told him that! He laughed at me! And then he suggested that next time we make it a threesome with Little Miss Dishwater. He said she’d do anything he told her to.”
    “So why didn’t you just push him over the edge?”
    “I was furious enough,” Annabel said. “He was so arrogant! He said as long as he was around, I’d never be a bestseller or a TV star. But we’d been fooling around with the strap, and all of a sudden he went limp. I thought of pushing him over, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t!”
    “You still loved him,” Barbara said.
    “Oh, why am I talking to you? It’s this damn place!” Annabel flung herself on Barbara and wrapped her arms around her. They both wobbled. With a twist and a shove, Barbara sent Annabel hurtling into the water. She landed right on me. I went down, glugging. As I bobbed up, I saw Barbara still on board, crouched low to maintain stability and clutching the double paddle. She poked it at Annabel as if she were churning butter.
    Annabel seized the paddle by the lower blade and clung to it, throwing all her weight into trying to topple Barbara overboard. One foot treading water, the other balancing in the muck, I yanked the paddle out of Annabel’s hand. Barbara spun the pole around and conked her with the other blade. Teamwork.
    Annabel went down without a sound. Barbara leaped in after her.
    “Barbara, what are you doing?” I inquired. “The fight’s over. She’s unconscious.”
    “We don’t want her to drown,” she said.
    “I’ve got her.” I cupped Annabel’s chin in my palm, keeping her nose and mouth above water. She floated, lax against my hip. “You could have stayed in the boat.”
    “Oh.” After a moment of merciful silence, she said, “Did you see me throw her out of the boat? The canoe turned right over. Let’s get her into the kayak. Some things you never forget. Back in Girl Scout camp, I passed my tippy-canoe test with flying colors. For the test, you actually overturned it on purpose, then you had to get back in the boat all by yourself. Anyhow, I got her! Didn’t I tell you the Klepper is fantastically