Read Death Dangles a Participle (Miss Prentice Cozy Mystery Series) for Free Online Page B

too, had enjoyed such assemblies during our long, balmy Adirondack winters. In particular, there had been a handsome male dancer from the New York City Ballet Company who inspired me to nurse dreams of a career en pointe until I realized that my hips, while not massive, tended to interrupt the smooth line favored by ballet masters.
    And, incidentally, I had no talent.
    I had decided instead to become a teacher. Fortunately, body proportion is seldom an issue in my profession, as is clearly evident from a glance at the yearbook’s faculty pages.
    The main problem with these assemblies was that Mr. Berghauser hadn’t taken into account the sophistication of the modern teenager. After having experienced deafening wrap-around sound and dazzling special effects at the Cineplex and garish violence and sensuality in video games, not to mention the appalling images of death and destruction in the news, these quaint little talks—delivered explosion free, by ordinary, fully-dressed human beings—must have seemed tedious at best and at worst, an excuse to misbehave. Consequently, at any given assembly, at least fifty percent of the faculty was pressed into service to sit among the restless natives and maintain order.
    Mr. Berghauser preferred teachers to attend, suggesting the value of making use of the assembly subject in our subsequent classes.
    A further argument in favor of going was that I had never heard my professor friend speak publicly on his favorite subject. I decided to be there for Alec.
    The hallway was now almost empty. I joined a handful of stragglers as we hastily made our way down the staircase and across the hallway to the auditorium.
    “You’re not going to that sideshow, are you?” Blakely Knight caught up with me with his easy stride.
    I paused at the door and straightened my shoulders. “I most certainly am.”
    “Oh, that’s right, I forgot. You’re big buddies with that old fraud, aren’t you?” He made it sound sordid.
    “Yes, we are,” I said, including Gil in the conversation. “But Alec’s no fraud. He’s a fellow scientist. You should respect his research, not scoff at it.”
    Was it intellectual contempt or jealousy motivating this man? I wondered. After all, both he and Alec were interested in Lily.
    “Yeah, right. And once he catches the big scary dinosaur, can Sasquatch be far behind? What the hey, might be good for a laugh. Come on.”
    He laid a hand on my shoulder. I ducked away, darting into the auditorium, and collided with the principal.
    “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Berghauser.”
    “Mrs. Dickensen, really!” He shook himself slightly and then said in a low murmur, “We need you to help in the front row. And please stop by my office this afternoon during your free period. Bring your grade book.” He turned and strode down the aisle to the stage.
    “Oh, dear.” That could only mean that some parent had a bone to pick with me.
    The auditorium was packed and groaning at the seams—a new one was at the top of the school board’s wish list—and the only seats available were half a dozen in the front row, an area made vulnerable by its visibility from the stage and Mr. Berghauser’s stern eye. The incorrigibles were required to sit here, and from the body language of the roughly ten students who stumbled their way sullenly to their assigned seats, the only things needed to crown the misery of their incarceration in the front row were leg irons.
    “What’s it this time?” snickered one slumping student to another, “Some old fa—” he broke off as the expression on his companion’s face warned him of my approach.
    Turning, both boys fixed me with a blank stare. It was the Rousseau brothers, J.T. and Dustin, famed for their unique acts of reckless derring-do.
    “This seat taken?” I asked brightly.
    J.T. shrugged, but gestured for me to sit. I sat carefully and occupied myself watching two boys on stage setting up a large portable movie screen.
    Without fanfare, Alec