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KUNATI BOOK PUBLISHERS
Infinity Publishing
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Murder Makes Mischiefby WG Eggleton |
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Excerpt
of book: “I’m
going to kill her!” Shirley
Foster declared and then waited. Waited for nothing.
Most mornings in this kitchen, a kitchen geared for laughter and
fun, did not start with discussions of murder.
She looked across the room to the glassed-in breakfast nook and
waited to see if any reaction would come from its sole occupant.
She hadn’t really expected a reply but that wasn’t going to
slow her down. Picking up her
juice and cereal, she moved out of the kitchen area and took her spot at
the breakfast table. “I’m
going to kill her!” she repeated. “That’s all there is to it.
Next time she starts waving her cigarettes around I'm going to kill
her!” With that resolution
the pretty young woman picked up her spoon and turned her full attention
to a bowl of oatmeal and apples. “You
are not going to kill her,” finally came the reply from behind the
Victoria Times-Colonist newspaper that was waving in the air across from
her. “You do not murder
someone because they smoke.” Shirley’s
face made a brief grimace as she looked over at the tall lanky man, her
husband, who was already putting down his paper. “Don’t
be tedious, Stephen! Of
course, I’m not killing her because she smokes; I’m killing her
because she’s Cynthia. That in itself should be enough.
You’d know that if you’d been listening at all.
The smoking is just the final straw.
Besides, do you think she even cares about smoking?
That’s what makes it so annoying. She probably doesn’t even
like smoking. She just cares
about power, about being above the rules. I bet she didn’t even smoke
before it was illegal and only does it now to piss me off.
And it’s working! But
I’ve had it and I’m telling you the next time, the very next time
I’m going to kill her. Not
because she smokes but because I hate her!” Shirley
was a petite blonde in her late twenties and although she was the mother
of two young boys many thought she needed maternal supervision herself.
This impression was partially created by her fluttery dramatics.
The delicate features on her animated face only served to reinforce
it. However, on closer
attention one could see a firm chin and a cold unwavering glance in her
dark blue eyes. There was
fierce determination and an unflinching will behind Shirley’s energy.
Few people became aware of this and those that did very often were
taken unpleasantly by surprise. Her
husband, Stephen, knew his wife and enjoyed her.
As he knew her roles were but a diversion, her enthusiasm and her
games entertained him. A tall
brown-haired man of thirty odd years with a calm, natural manner, he was
neither attractive nor unattractive. His
movements were relaxed and unhurried, as was his life.
That was how he liked it. Shirley
brought excitement to him, just the right amount and just the right kind. “You
are not going to kill her and you do not hate her.” “I do!” Shirley insisted firmly.
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