Free The Readaholics and the Gothic Gala by Laura Disilverio Page B

suspense fiction—a normal person living a normal life gets caught up in extraordinary circumstances and has to cope.”
    â€œIf you can call what she did ‘coping,’” Maud sniffed, still down on the protagonist.
    â€œI think du Maurier not giving her a name is an identity thing,” Brooke said. She flipped her hair over her shoulder to keep from trailing it in the syrup on her plate as she forked up the last morsel of sausage. “Names are powerful. Names give immediate impressions. I mean, you’d have a different idea of someone named Arabella than you would if she was called Mildred. Du Maurier is playing with that, making usdecide who this woman is without giving us a clue via the name.”
    â€œThat’s deep, Brooke,” I said, half admiringly, half mockingly.
    She made a face at me.
    â€œNo, it is,” Lola said. She rose and started to collect our plates. “I think du Maurier’s playing with all the names. De Winter, for example. That conjures up a cold feeling to me, and I think the husband is a cold man. Or”—she cocked her head to consider—“maybe he’s
become
cold as a result of his experiences with Rebecca.”
    â€œShe was evil,” Kerry said.
    â€œAnd do you know what her name means, what ‘Rebecca’ means?” Lola asked, returning to her names theory. We looked at her and shook our heads. “‘Tied’ or ‘bound.’ I looked it up.”
    I crinkled my brow. “What are you saying she was bound by, Lo?”
    â€œNot her marriage vows—that’s for sure,” Maud said, making us all crack up.
    â€œMaybe her evil nature,” Lola said slowly. “I think sometimes that when you choose to do the wrong thing time after time, when you choose to hurt others, eventually it’s not a choice anymore—you can’t break out of the habit.”
    â€œWow, this is an unusually cheery discussion,” Kerry said.
    Lola slumped into her chair, cupping her hands around a coffee mug. “Sorry. I’m not feeling too cheery today.”
    â€œThat wasn’t an attack on you,” Kerry said, lookingdismayed that Lola had taken her words that way. “It wasn’t a cheery book.”
    â€œAnd last night didn’t exactly end on a cheery note, either,” I said. The murder was the elephant in the room we’d all been avoiding mentioning.
    â€œDo the police know the victim’s name yet, Amy-Faye?” Brooke asked.
    â€œI haven’t talked to Hart today, so I don’t know.”
    â€œI wonder how he ended up in the manager’s office,” Kerry said, focused, as usual, on logistics.
    â€œSomeone lured him there,” Brooke suggested.
    â€œOr more than one someone,” Maud said.
    We groaned. “Not everything that happens is part of a conspiracy,” Kerry said tartly.
    â€œMost everything is.” Maud was unrepentant. “Even in
Rebecca
, you can tell Mrs. Danvers and that smarmy Favell are working together to—”
    â€œMaybe the manager had something to do with it,” Brooke said.
    I immediately shook my head, setting my ponytail swinging. “No way. I’ve worked with Wallace Pinnecoose for years. He’s not the murdering type.”
    â€œThat’s what people said about Jeffrey Dahmer,” Maud said.
    â€œAnd Ted Bundy,” Kerry added.
    â€œAnd—”
    I tossed my napkin at Brooke before she could add another serial killer to the list. “Right, I got it. Everyone liked Jack the Ripper, too. He was a swell guy to his friends and his dog. I’m just saying I don’t think Wallace had anything to do with it.”
    â€œWhen the police find out who he was, maybe it’ll be clear who killed him,” Lola said quietly.
    Kerry patted her arm, and I said, “I hope so, Lo.”
    â€œAnd, if not, we can figure it out,” Maud said. She put her cup down with a