Shakespeare's Trollop

Read Shakespeare's Trollop for Free Online

Book: Read Shakespeare's Trollop for Free Online
Authors: Charlaine Harris
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, cozy
if she couldn’t achieve those things, she could be remarkable in another way.
    â€œWonder why her parents didn’t do anything about it?” I asked. “Is there anything you can do about chins?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Janet shrugged. “But I can tell you that Lacey has never believed in plastic surgery. She’s real fundamentalist, you know. A great lady, but not a liberal bone in her body. That’s why she took to Shakespeare Combined Church so well, when she married Jerrell and he wanted her to go to church with him.”
    A tap on the jaw seemed to have much the same effect on me as a glass or two of wine. I felt disinclined to move, oddly content to be standing in a parking lot having an idle conversation with another human being.
    â€œJerrell and Deedra didn’t get along so well,” I commented.
    â€œNo. Frankly, I’ve always wondered…” and Janet hesitated, her face compressing into an expression of both reluctance and distaste. “Well, I’ve always wondered if he ever visited Deedra…you know? Before Lacey’s husband died, before Jerrell ever imagined being able to marry Lacey?”
    â€œUgh,” I said. I turned this over in my mind for a minute. “Oh, yuck .”
    â€œYeah, me too.” Our eyes met. We had matching expressions.
    â€œI would think he would hate remembering that,” Janet said, slowly and carefully. “I would think he’d hate wondering if Deedra would ever tell.”
    After a long, thoughtful moment, I replied, “Yes. I’d think he certainly would.”

T HREE
    Lacey Knopp called me the next morning. I was about to leave for Joe C Prader’s house when the phone rang. Hoping it was Jack, though the time difference made me fairly surely it wasn’t, I said, “Yes?”
    â€œLily, I need you to help me,” Lacey said. I hardly recognized her voice. She sounded like she’d been dragged over razor blades.
    â€œHow?”
    â€œI need you to meet me at Deedra’s tomorrow. I need help packing up the things in her apartment. Can you do that for me?”
    I try to keep Wednesday mornings free for just such special projects. I wasn’t more than a little surprised that Deedra’s mother was in such a hurry to clear out Deedra’s apartment. Many, many people react to grief with a furious flurry of activity. They figure if they don’t hold still, it can’t hit them.
    â€œYes, I can do that. What time?”
    â€œEight?”
    â€œSure.” I hesitated. “I’m sorry,” I said.
    â€œThank you.” Lacey sounded shakier, suddenly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    I was so buried in thought that I took the wrong route to Mr. Prader’s, and had to turn around and go back.
    Joe Christopher Prader was as old as God but as mean as the devil. Called “Joe C” by all his family and cronies (those few still surviving), he’d been known for years for stalking around Shakespeare brandishing a cane at everyone who crossed his path, lamenting the passing of the better days, and bringing up old scandals at the most inopportune times.
    Now Joe C’s stalking-around days were pretty much done.
    Some visits, I kind of enjoyed him. Others, I would have decked him gladly if he hadn’t been so frail. More than once, I wondered if he was really as fragile as he seemed, or if maybe that show of frailty was a defense against just such impulses as mine.
    Shakespeareans were inexplicably proud of having Joe C as a town character. His family was less thrilled. When his granddaughter Calla had hired me, she’d begged me to work for at least a month before I quit. By that time, she hoped, I would be over the shock of him.
    â€œIf we could get him to move out of that old house,” Calla Prader had said despairingly. “If we could get him into Shakespeare Manor…or if we could get him to agree to live-in

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