Free Murder in the Collective by Barbara Wilson

exactly call it gleeful. I mean, it’s true they and Fran have had their differences, but…”
    She still hadn’t addressed the issue, I felt. My urgency increased. “Well, aren’t they lesbian separatists? Don’t they just want to work with women?”
    Hadley wasn’t smiling now. “Your voice is raised, Miss Pam. Very unbecoming. I also detect a note of hostility to your own sex—maybe even lesbian-baiting—also rather impolite.”
    We stared at each other, neither willing to risk a further exchange. I felt sure that she was hiding something, protecting Margaret in some way. I didn’t know what she thought, but there was a distance between us that hadn’t been there before.
    “Shall we go?” she said.
    For some reason I felt close to tears. “Ready when you are.”
    We figured out the check, said good-bye to Sally, paid the cashier and went out into the balmy evening without saying much more than “So long.” Only as we reached our separate vehicles in the parking lot did I hear her voice.
    “Hey Pam. I’m sorry. I hurt your feelings.”
    I turned and saw her tall figure silhouetted against the Doghouse sign.
    “Me too,” I said. I heard my voice carry strangely in the suddenly still evening air. “I guess I was, you know, baiting.”
    Her truck door closed. She was crossing the parking lot, and her boots made a light firm clacking on the asphalt.
    “I want to tell you something,” she said when she reached me. “I have known Margaret a long time, but Margaret and Anna together is a different story. They’ve gotten funny together about some things, reinforced each other’s ideas. The merger is one. I’m sure they didn’t wreck the place, but I wouldn’t be completely honest if I didn’t say that they seem sort of pleased about all this. It’s true too—they only want to work with women and they haven’t gotten along with Fran for months.”
    “Listen,” I said. “It’s early.” I looked at my watch. “Not even eight-thirty yet. And I think we need to talk through some of this stuff. I’m glad you said something. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole in there.”
    “I guess I could go with a beer or something after all that java.” Hadley smiled a bit wickedly. “Ever been to Sappho’s?”
    I gulped a little. “No, but I’d love to.”
    “Great,” she said, turning back to her truck. “Just follow me.”
    “Wait,” I said. “Could we go by Best first, just for a minute? I want to raid the petty cash until tomorrow.”
    “Oh, I’ve got plenty,” she said, but she seemed pleased when I insisted. “Okay, see you there in a minute.”
    That’s funny, I thought, pulling up in front of the print shop on its quiet sidestreet near the Kingdome. Who in hell left the light on in there? I couldn’t imagine that anyone was working late. The whole week we’d been short of business; there were no rush jobs of any kind. Besides, it wasn’t the front light, but one way in the back. It made a dim red glow. The darkroom, the goddamn darkroom. When was Jeremy going to learn?
    The door was locked. Just as I put my key in, Hadley pulled up.
    “There’s a light on,” she called out.
    “Yeah, Jeremy left the darkroom light on, I bet. He’s done it before.”
    “I’m going in there with you.” Hadley leapt out, holding a softball bat. I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.
    “Don’t tell me you play ball,” I said.
    “Hell, I’m the captain of the team.”
    “Okay, okay,” I said, unlocking the door and striding boldly in. “All saboteurs out in the open.”
    It was quiet. Everything was in its place, of course. There was only the red glow coming from the darkroom, through its partially opened door.
    “I’ll kill Jeremy,” I said. “When the fuck is he going to learn?”
    I went to the back and opened the door to the darkroom wide. Whatever Jeremy was supposed to learn was unnecessary now. As was my threat to kill him.
    Someone had done it for me.

9
    A RED LIGHT IS