Oh, sure, there was a healthy dose of depression and more than a little guilt in the mix. But overriding everything else was the realization that the dreaded heart-to-heart with Al was now behind me. The minute I sat down at my desk I dialed Jackie. It had been five or six days since I’d last spoken to her, and you know how she gets. As soon as she acknowledged me, her tone (and past experience) tipped me to the fact that she was poised to strike. But I aborted the reprimand by telling her I’d been all set to leave my office when I remembered that—my God!—I hadn’t wished Jackie a happy Thanksgiving. She softened instantly. She and Derwin, she volunteered, would be spending the holiday at Derwin’s cousin’s. What were my plans? Well, not wanting to be the cause of any undue empathy over what had, after all, been my own choice, I opted not to admit that I’d be having a sandwich (very possibly turkey) alone in my kitchen. Instead, I said I was going out to dinner with an old college friend who was vacationing in New York this week.
What do You think about Murder Can Spoil Your Appetite?
