This Game of Murder

Chapter X

Marshall arrived at the funeral home at a quarter of eight. He was directed by a soft-voiced attendant to the room on the right.

The casket was at one end of the room, banked by flowers, and there was a row of chairs along the wall opposite the archway by which Marshall had entered. Betty and Audrey Reed were seated in the two center chairs. There was no sign of George Reed. Marshall assumed he was at home supervising Bud.

People were stopping to speak to Betty, then moving on to file past the casket. She sat with shoulders squared and her face expressionless, quietly thanking each person for coming as the line moved past her.

She knew what they were thinking, he realized, and was infinitely proud of the brave manner in which she faced the ordeal.

He waited until there was a momentary lull in visitors and the two women were alone. Then he went over.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

Betty gave him a wan smile. “Some are here honestly to pay their respects, I suppose. Others came for the same reason people visit side shows.”

Audrey Reed said, “You can tell the ones who came out of morbid curiosity by the way they look at her. I stare right in their faces so they know they aren’t fooling me.”

“It’s a small town,” he said. “Other people’s business is the main recreation. You’ll just have to bear it.”

“Oh, I’ll get through it,” Betty said. “At least so far all they’ve heard is rumors. Henry says he thinks he can talk Arn Ross into holding off my arrest until after the funeral.”

Mention of the district attorney brought a resurgence of the anger he had felt that morning. But there was no point in adding to Betty’s discomfort by relating what Arnold Ross had said.

He told her to keep her head up, moved on past the casket and then back through the archway. He signed the visitors’ book on the way out.

Lydia was fully dressed when she answered the door this time, if you could call a skirt and a sweater under which there was obviously no brassiere fully dressed. From previous experience he supposed she wore no panties either. When they had no plans for going out, she liked to be prepared for quick action just in case he happened to be in the mood.

She was perceptive enough to sense the instant he walked in that he wasn’t in that sort of mood at this precise moment, however. She gave him a mere peck of greeting and remained standing when he seated himself on the sofa.

“Drink?” she asked.

“Maybe a beer. I don’t feel like any whisky.”

Going into the kitchen, she returned with two glasses and two opened bottles of beer. She set his on the cocktail table before him and seated herself in the chair directly opposite him. Both silently went through the ritual of pouring beer and sampling it.

Then she asked, “How is she standing up?”

“All right. She isn’t going to let it throw her.”

“Was it pretty awful?”

“Well, you know how the town is. It isn’t easy for her, but she’s facing them down. It’s going to get worse, but I didn’t tell her. I figured she had enough troubles.”

“How do you mean?”

“Arn Ross is planning to use me as the motive for the shooting.”

“You!”

“I played golf with Betty last Sunday when you broke out date. Bruce was in the bar with Doc Derring when we got back. He made some snide remarks about her catting around with me; Betty walked out and I offered to knock Bruce off his stool. He ended up apologizing, but it was quite a scene and the bar was pretty well populated. It got back to Arn and he has it all figured out that Betty knocked off her husband to make herself free for me.”

“Oh boy!” Lydia said. “The gossips will have a field day with that.”

For a few moments they sipped their beer in silence. Presently he said, “Just what do you think of me, Lydia?”

She cocked a quizzical eyebrow. “You ought to know by now, by the way I tumble into bed at your least hint.”

He made a dismissing gesture. “Sex isn’t everything. We’ve never discussed what emotions, if any, we feel for each other, or where we’re going from here.”

A waiting expression formed on her face. “You mean you want to talk about it?”

“I want to clear the air. I don’t want to act like a heel and do things behind your back.”

“Oh,” she said. “This sounds like the beginning of a gentle letdown.”

“It isn’t anything of the sort. I’m just all mixed up. I thought we were close enough so that I could discuss it with you frankly.”

“All right,” she said agreeably. “I’ll listen.”

“You know I used to go with Betty years back, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“We were sweethearts all through high school. We planned to be married as soon as we were both through college. I don’t suppose you’ve been here long enough to have heard what happened.”

She shook her head. “No one ever mentioned it to me.”

“It was quite a scandal at the time, but it was nine years old by the time you moved to town. And gossip doesn’t live that long, even in this town. Unfortunately we went to different schools. When Betty was a sophomore at Bryn Mawr, she met Bruce and got pregnant. So they had a runaway marriage. It threw me for a loop.”

“And you’ve never quite recovered?”

“Oh, I recovered. You can’t go on pining for another man’s wife forever. But it left me a little wary of women in general. I carried a torch for a long time.”

“I see. And now the fire has rekindled?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just because she’s in trouble and I feel the need to protect her. When she’s out of this jam I may decide that warmed-over love isn’t any more appetizing than warmed-over pancakes. Or it may turn out to be the real thing. The trouble is that all the while I’m stewing about Betty, I’m still as fond of you as I ever was. I told you I was all mixed up.”

Lydia shifted her legs and he caught a momentary glimpse of white thigh. “What do you want me to tell you?” she asked.

“Nothing. I didn’t come here for advice. I just want you to know exactly how things stand because I think you deserve to know. After all, we’ve been going together for two years.”

“Yes,” she said wryly.

“At times I’ve wondered if I was in love with you. Sometimes I’ve been sure of it. I’ve even thought about asking you to marry me. But I’ve been so damned gun shy ever since the jolt Betty gave me eleven years ago, I couldn’t quite bring myself to the point. Now if you want, you can tell me to go soak my head.” He drained his beer glass.

“I won’t do that,” she said. “I appreciate your honesty in letting me know the exact situation. But I have no intention of meekly stepping aside.”

“How do you mean, stepping aside?”

“As you say, we’ve never discussed our emotional feelings for each other. You never brought the subject up, and I was raised to believe the man should make the first move. But since you have brought it up now, we may as well clear the air completely. I’ve been nuts about you practically since the day we met. I’d marry you in a minute, any time you asked me.”

He smiled with embarrassment.

“You don’t have to start feeling hemmed in,” she said dryly. “I wouldn’t even want you unless you really wanted me. It’s not a case of hoping to snare you by any means, fair or foul. That’s why I’ve never pushed. I don’t think, as many women do, that you develop a vested interest in a man simply because he’s taken up a certain amount of your time. I wouldn’t ever marry you if I thought your sole reason for asking me was that you felt obligated because you’ve used up two years of my life. I’ve enjoyed the two years as much as you have. And I was aware from the beginning that you were shy of marriage.”

“You’re a rather unusual woman,” he said. “I’ve had women resent my not proposing because I took up two weeks of their time.”

“I know I’m unusual. I’d be quite a catch. But it would have to be entirely your idea, because you’ll never get a prod from me. On the other hand I’m not a meek little mouse who instantly gives up when faced by competition. The minute you tell me Betty is your choice, you’ll be rid of me without a bit of trouble. But so long as I’m still in the running, I’ll fight to keep you every way I know how.”

“Now you’re sounding a little more feminine.”

“I am feminine. I’m just not feline. If you think I’m not jealous of Betty, you’re wrong. But I don’t hate her. I don’t even blame her for wanting you. Most any woman would. I have no intention of fighting with her. I’ll fight by trying to offer you more than she can. And I think I have at least one advantage there.”

“What’s that?”

“I doubt very much that she’s as good in bed as I am.” He laughed.

“Well,” she said, “you have to admit I’m pretty talented.”

“You were a rank amateur when we met,” he said. “I taught you everything you know. Even in the beginning you were pretty enthusiastic, as I remember, though.”

“Would you like to refresh your memory?” she asked, shifting her legs again.

He caught another flash of white inner thigh, this time all the way up. As he had suspected, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

“I guess the air is pretty well cleared,” he said with a grin.

Instantly she was on her feet and had pulled her sweater off over her head. She gave her head a shake to cause her tousled dark hair to fall back in place and arched her back provocatively. Her breasts were even larger than Betty’s, but as firm and upright as a young girl’s. Merely his gazing at them caused their dark tips to begin to swell and harden.

Kicking off her shoes, she stepped out of her skirt and dropped it across the chair she had been sitting in. She had been wearing no stockings, so she was now completely naked. Trotting to the bedroom door, she reached around the corner to switch on the overhead light and looked back at him.

“Last one in is a pussy-cat,” she said, turning to disappear into the room.

He left his clothing in the front room. She was waiting for him on the bed when he entered the bedroom. Her arms were about his neck before he was fully settled alongside of her and her lips were moistly pressed against his.

Without preliminaries their bodies joined together in a savage embrace which went on and on in mounting fury until both reached such a peak of agonizing ecstasy that they strove wildly for release. It came to them simultaneously just short of their limit to endure such excruciating rapture without their passing beyond the limit into unconsciousness.

They lay limply in each other arms, unmoving, for a long time.

Finally she said against his lips, “What happened? That was the best ever.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “It just happened.”

“I think I know,” she said dreamily.

“What?”

“I finally told you I love you. It must have released some last bit of inhibition that prevented me ever before from completely surrendering to you.”

“My God!” he said in mock alarm. “You mean it’s always going to be that frenzied from now on?”

“You loved it,” she said, gently kissing his lips. “I told you I was going to fight. This is the best way I know how.”

Drawing her head onto his shoulder, he said, “Just don’t fight so hard that you kill me in the process.”

She snuggled against him. “Maybe I ought to add something to that long dissertation of mine.”

“What’s that?”

“When I said that as so long as I’m still in the running, I’ll continue to fight, I meant within limits. I don’t perpetually expect to remain one of your harem. Within a reasonable length of time you’re going to have to make up your mind one way or the other.”

“I know it,” he said, kissing the end of her nose. “Betty wouldn’t put up with a harem either, I’m sure. Will you give me a month?”

“I’ll give you two, if it takes that long. Even three. But as long as we’re being completely frank, I just want you to know there’s a limit to even my patience.”

Neither of them mentioned the possibility that Betty might soon be permanently out of the running by receiving a life sentence or the electric chair. He was sure the thought must have occurred to her, and he appreciated her sense of fair play in keeping it to herself. As for him, he refused to imagine any outcome but Betty’s eventual vindication.

Later that night, in his own bed, he thought back over the evening. He felt better for having brought everything out in the open with Lydia, but it hadn’t resolved his basic problem. He no longer had a sense of guilt, but he was even more mixed up about which woman he was in love with.