Free A Corpse for Yew by Jim Lavene, Joyce

came back on the line. “We think Jonathon may have been responsible for what happened.”
    “What? Why would you think that?”
    “Because she didn’t want to ride out with us this morning.”
    “I thought that was because of her lumbago.”
    “I didn’t want to say anything, but something happened between them at the last meeting. None of us were in the room at the time, but they acted strange and Lois wasn’t herself. She didn’t come to the first outing we had at the lake. Grace and I think that might be why.”
    “I don’t know what to say. I’ll check into Lois’s death. If it was from natural causes, that will be the end of it. I think you’re wrong about Jonathon. But we’ll see.”
    “Thanks, Peggy. I knew you were the right one to talk to about it. Give my love to your mother. I’ll talk to you later.”
    The whole time Peggy was on the phone, four pairs of eyes were glued to her. Shakespeare was the only one with good cause to wonder what she was doing; he hadn’t been fed yet.
    “Like I said”—she turned off her cell phone and put it in her pocket—“that’s it for me today. I’m going to bed. I’ll see all of you tomorrow.”
    Steve took the news well and gathered up the Yahtzee game. “I have an early day tomorrow, too. Go on up, and I’ll feed Shakespeare for you.”
    “There’s no need for that.” Lilla might as well have fluffed out her maternal feathers as she flew to the kitchen cabinet. “Ranson and I will take care of that and lock up before we leave. Thanks for the game, Steve. We’ll see you Tuesday night, right?”
    Steve frowned but didn’t say anything. “Right. Good night, everyone.” He glanced at Peggy, then walked out the kitchen door.
    “Shakespeare’s food is in the pantry, Mom.” Peggy tried to work herself up to telling her parents that Steve was where he belonged. “You know, we live in a different age than the two of you were raised in. Things have changed.”
    “You don’t have to tell us,” Ranson agreed. “Crazy things going on out there. But not all bad. There’s cable TV and remote control.”
    “What are you trying to say?” Lilla asked.
    Peggy stared at them. Steve and I are living together—or trying to . But those words wouldn’t cross her lips. “Nothing. I’m tired. Good night. I’ll set the alarm from upstairs.”
    There would be another time to explain how her life was at that point. It was possible she and Steve would get married in the future, not that she was ready for that yet. Was he? She walked slowly up the marble stairs to her bedroom, hearing the kitchen door close behind her parents.
     
     
    PEGGY WOKE UP THE NEXT morning with a un-Shakespeare-like arm draped around her. Steve’s face was close to hers, dark stubble peppering his chin and cheeks. She was more than glad to see him there, and moved closer to him.
    “You’re finally awake?” he muttered without opening his eyes as his arms tightened around her. “You were sleeping like the dead when I got back last night. You didn’t even know I was here, did you?”
    “No. But I’m really happy you are. I’ve missed you.” She kissed him passionately and laughed as he opened his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell them last night and end this farce.”
    “That’s okay.” He smiled at her. “I can sneak in after they’re gone. You know, double back after I pretend to go home, and make sure their car is gone before I sneak in through the basement. Lucky thing I know the alarm code.”
    “It’s not as bad as all that,” she protested weakly.
    “Yes, it is. We have to tell them, Peggy.”
    “I know.”
    “Paul, too. I can’t believe how many excuses I’ve had to come up with for being here early in the morning. I’ve dropped off your dry cleaning at six a.m., told him I was walking Shakespeare for you at ten at night, and I think he’s already suspicious because I know how to work the dryer.”
    “Have I told you yet today how