A Share in Death Read Free

assistant live here on the premises as well? He seems a pleasant chap.”
    Cassie straightened up abruptly. Her voice, as she delivered Sebastian Wade’s social condemnation, betrayed a hint of the venom he had heard earlier. “No. In the town with his old mum. She keeps the tobacconist’s shop.” She brushed her hands together, as if disposing of crumbs. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve things to do. Let me know if you need anything, otherwise I’ll see you later.” The smile was brief this time, and held no invitation. Cassie slipped past and left him alone on the balcony.

CHAPTER 2
    Penelope MacKenzie stole a furtive look into the suite’s sitting room, where her sister Emma seemed to be absorbed in checking her life-list against today’s notations in her birding notebook. Penny settled herself more comfortably in front of the bedroom window with a quick sigh of relief. She’d have a few more minutes with no demands, a small escape from her sister’s solicitous supervision.
    Things were different before Father died. Penny hadn’t been forgetful then, really; just a little absent-minded sometimes. But after those last, long months of Father’s illness some of the tenuous connections between thought and action just seemed to dissolve.
    Only last week she’d put a saucepan of water on the cooker and gone into the sitting room for a book. When she remembered the pan, the water had all boiled away and the middle layer of the pan’s bottom had melted and run across the cooker’s top in a silvery flood. And then there was the leftover Sunday roast she popped into the oven instead of the fridge. Emma had been furious when she discovered it the next day and had to throw it away.
    But those were the little things. Penny didn’t like tothink about the day she went down to the shops in the village, did her errands, and found she couldn’t remember how to get home. Instead of the memory of the well-worn path through Dedham village and up the hill to Ivy Cottage, there was only an emptiness in her mind.
    She stumbled, terrified, into the familiar warmth of her friend Mary’s tea shop. She sat there perspiring, chatting and drinking hot, sweet tea, trying to pretend a gaping hole hadn’t opened in her universe, until she saw a neighbor pass. She caught up to him, and asked breathlessly. “Are you going home? I’ll walk with you, shall I, George?” As she walked, familiarity with her surroundings returned, filling the vacant space, but the fear settled itself comfortably inside her. She told no one, most particularly not Emma.
    Perhaps a holiday was all she needed, a fortnight with no responsibilities. It had taken her long enough to convince Emma that they deserved something after their years with Father. After all, they had his money now and could do what they pleased. She’d seen the timeshare brochure herself, at the travel agent’s in the village. And Followdale was lovely, every bit as lovely as she’d imagined.
    “Daydreaming as usual, Pen?” Her sister’s voice startled her. “Stir yourself, then. We’d best be getting to the shops if we’re to return in time to dress for the party.” Emma pulled her waterproof jacket out of the wardrobe and began buckling herself into it with her usual no-nonsense briskness.
    “Yes, Emma, coming,” Penny answered. There was no need to make Emma cross, or even worse, to try her until she spoke with that unaccustomed air of gentle patience. Penny rubbed her forehead with her fingertips,as if the physical smoothing of lines would return the accustomed veneer of placid cheerfulness to her face, and smiled brightly when Emma turned to her.
    *   *   *
    Twenty-eight … twenty-nine … thirty … Hannah Alcock sat in front of the mirror and counted the smooth, circular motions of the hairbrush. Odd, she thought, how childhood habits stayed with you. She knew of no logical reason why hair should be brushed a hundred strokes a day, but if she closed her eyes for a