Free The Class Menagerie by Jill Churchill Page A

jobs to do, too. I was looking for loo paper when I found her. I’m going back to work.“
    Jane went back upstairs, passing Pooky coming down. Ewe Lambs were spread out all over the house, some talking quietly, others doing paperwork or flipping through magazines. Jane went back to Avalon’s room and found that there was a vast stash of toilet paper in the cabinet under the sink. She finished up the apricot room and went on to Kathy’s, which was— not surprisingly—a mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere, a damp washcloth was on the floor making a spot on the carpet. An ashtray had spilled on the floor. And she’d have to do the bed from scratch. She tossed Kathy’s cheesy plastic purse on the overstuffed chair by the window and started to work.
    She kept thinking back to her conversation with Mel. And she found herself wondering what on earth Lila was really doing out in the carriage house. With her Grace Kelly hair and antique clothing and cool, nasty manner, Lila didn’t seem the type to be a thrill-seeker who’d visit the scene of Ted Francisco’s suicide. And she didn’t seem to have any particular interest in Ted’s death. Of course, they had all avoided mentioning him, so maybe that wasn’t a fair assessment.
    Still, what had she been doing in the carriage house? And when had she gone out there? She’d been present at dinner when Edgar made his strong warning about locking up at ten-thirty. If she went out before that, she probably assumed she’d be back in before the deadline. Then, too, she might well have been arrogant enough that it didn’t matter. She didn’t seem the type to care much if she disturbed someone else’s rest. But if she went out later—why?
    She had, of course, grown up in the neighborhood. Or at least lived here during high school. Maybe she still had acquaintances here and was going out to meet somebody. Somebody she shouldn’t have met, obviously.
    When Jane finished with the bed, she realized that Kathy’s purse had slid off the chair and dumped its contents all over the floor. She started to put things back when she realized just what those contents were.
    A slim-banded gold watch with diamonds around the face; a ring that featured an enormous dark pink stone that had to be a ruby. Stunned and curious, Jane opened the lizard-skin billfold and found a Gold Visa card, a Gold American Express card, and a checkbook showing a balance of $23,683.
    “What have you got there?“ Crispy said from the doorway. She came in and gently closed the door behind her.
    “She’s rich,“ Jane said, too astonished at the discovery to be embarrassed at being caught snooping.
    “Of course she is. Couldn’t you tell?“
    “No! How could anybody tell?“
    “Easy, my dear. If you know what to look for,“ Crispy said, taking the billfold from Jane and flipping through it before she put it back in the ratty plastic purse. “The hands always give it away. You just need a quick glance at those cuticles to realize they’ve had at least ten years of manicures. And the slight tan line where she normally wears a watch and ring. Why would a person who always wears those take them off unless they conflicted with the image she’s trying to project?“
    “But why? Why pretend to be a poor slob? I’m always trying to pretend I’m not a poor slob!“ she added with a laugh.
    “Just a guess—she didn’t want everybody to know she’d sold out to the establishment. She was a fiery liberal, convinced she’d change the world by sheer force of personality and righteousness. It was her claim to fame. Instead, she ends up a capitalist pig.“
    “So this scratching a living out of the dirt !in Oklahoma and picking up cans and bottles at the roadside to save the earth is just made up?“ Jane said, still not quite convinced in spite of the evidence, i
    “The little subsistence farm in Oklahoma is probably a thousand square acres of wall-to-wall oil wells.“
    “Amazing!“ 1
    “Rule One of Reunions,