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Pride v. Prejudice Page 27


  “One minute,” I said to the agent. “I need to assure my daughter that I’m unharmed.” He obligingly stepped back. I punched a button, and to my relief, Caron picked up. I hurriedly said, “I wanted to let you know that I’ll be home in an hour, dear. Where’s Peter?”

  “What on earth have you been doing, Mother? You and that convict are all over the news. My Facebook page is swamped with snide comments. Rhonda Maguire insinuated that you’re having an affair with him. Carrie wants to know if I’m still going to the senior picnic this afternoon. I am So Humiliated.”

  “Where’s Peter?”

  “He went to pick up pizza. His mother insisted on olives and anchovies. Inez is allergic to olives. I loathe anchovies.”

  “She’s there?” I said, forcing myself to breathe. “Never mind, of course she is.”

  “Inez is keeping her company on the terrace. I came inside to get the pitcher of tea.”

  “Did you find the Ming Thing?”

  “In a way. Inez and I learned that some man from the drama department at the college had bought the stupid thing, along with other stuff for a set. We looked him up on the Internet. It turned out he’s a bigwig in the community theater, and they were opening a new play Friday night. We went to the theater in the afternoon, but there were people all over the place.”

  The FBI agent harrumphed softly.

  “I only have a minute,” I said.

  “So I persuaded Joel to take me, and Inez happened to show up. That icky thing was on a shelf on the stage. During the final act, I told Joel that I was sick and Inez was taking me home. We hid in the wardrobe room until the play was over.”

  The FBI agent harrumphed less softly.

  “Hurry, please,” I whispered.

  “As soon as everybody was gone and the lights were off, we went onto the stage and grabbed the thing. How were we supposed to know all the doors had dead bolts? We decided to wait until someone showed up in the morning, but that didn’t happen. Finally, we just opened the emergency exit and ran. A security cop grabbed us and called the police.”

  The FBI agent harrumphed loudly.

  “And?” I said.

  “I dropped it.” Her sigh was masterful, filled with angst and anguish. “We scooped up all the pieces and spent last night gluing it back together. It’s on the mantel, even uglier, if you can imagine.”

  “What did Peter’s mother say when she saw it?”

  “She laughed and admitted it was a cheap souvenir that she bought as a joke. You’re going to die when you see the turquoise silk robe she brought you. Mine’s a gorgeous jade green. She gave Peter a set of antique porcelain temple lions. I put them on either side of the fireplace to protect us from evil spirits.”

  The FBI agent harrumphed like a tiger with a hairball.

  “See you soon,” I said as I turned off the cell phone.

  * * *

  It took more than an hour before I was dismissed with stern orders to remain available and to not so much as stick my little toe beyond the city limits. Peter had called in favors from his enigmatic connections at Quantico. Chief Panzer had vouched for my impeccable character. Sheriff Dorfer had agreed that I was not yet a menace to society.

  An FBI agent drove me to the police impound lot and oversaw the release of my car. I’d solved the case, but I certainly had not solved everyone’s problems. Sarah was in custody. Roderick was headed for parts unknown. Grady would need a lawyer from Legal Aid. Evan, if forced to represent him, would be blushing throughout trial.

  On a much cheerier note (worthy of fireworks and champagne), Prosecutor Wessell had made a fool of himself. He’d been adamant about Sarah’s guilt. He’d proclaimed it from the courthouse steps, in front of the national media. Martin Luther had made less of a fuss over his ninety-five theses. The Weasel’s previous prosecutions were fair game for scrutiny. I looked forward to listening to him bleat on the nightly news.

  When I arrived home, I cautiously opened the front door and made sure everyone was on the terrace. My mood improved a bit when I spotted empty wine bottles on the kitchen island. I scurried into the bedroom and changed clothes. One should not meet one’s mother-in-law dressed in a random man’s shirt and jeans, I thought with only a twinge of hysteria. I did what I could with my hair, put on minimum makeup, and emerged from the bedroom with a sense of foreboding.

  Caron and Inez were sitting on the tile floor, towels draped over their bathing suits. My beloved husband was lying in a chaise longue.

  A female voice came from the chaise longue beside him. “Okay, so a priest, a rabbi, and a giant frog walk into a bar.”

  For the first time, it occurred to me that I might like Peter’s mother.

  About the Author

  JOAN HESS is the author of both the Claire Malloy and the Maggody mystery series, a winner of the American Mystery Award, and a former president of the American Crime Writers League. A member of Sisters in Crime, she was recently recognized with a Lifetime Achievement Award from Malice Domestic. A longtime resident of Fayetteville, Arkansas, she now lives in Austin, Texas. You can sign up for email updates here.

  ALSO BY JOAN HESS

  THE CLAIRE MALLOY MYSTERIES

  Strangled Prose

  The Murder at the Murder at the Mimosa Inn

  Dear Miss Demeanor

  Roll Over and Play Dead

  A Diet to Die For

  A Really Cute Corpse

  Death by the Light of the Moon

  Poisoned Pins

  Closely Akin to Murder

  Busy Bodies

  Tickled to Death

  A Holly, Jolly Murder

  A Conventional Corpse

  Out on a Limb

  The Goodbye Body

  Damsels in Distress

  Mummy Dearest

  Deader Homes and Gardens

  Murder as a Second Language

  THE ARLY HANKS MYSTERIES

  Malice in Maggody

  Mischief in Maggody

  Much Ado in Maggody

  Madness in Maggody

  Mortal Remains in Maggody

  Maggody in Manhattan

  O Little Town of Maggody

  Martians in Maggody

  Miracles in Maggody

  The Maggody Militia

  Misery Loves Maggody

  Murder@maggody.com

  Maggody and the Moonbeams

  Muletrain to Maggody

  Malpractice in Maggody

  Merry Wives of Maggody

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  About the Author

  Also by Joan Hess

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  PRIDE V. PREJUDICE. Copyright © 2015 by Joan Hess. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.minotaurbooks.com

  Cover illustration by Ben Perini

  eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information
on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Hess, Joan.

  Pride v. prejudice : a Claire Malloy mystery / Joan Hess. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 978-1-250-01195-4 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-250-02999-7 (e-book)

  1. Malloy, Claire (Fictitious character)–Fiction. 2. Booksellers and bookselling–Fiction. 3. Women detectives–Fiction. I. Title. II. Title: Pride versus prejudice.

  PS3558.E79785P75 2015

  813'.54—dc23

  2014040984

  eISBN 9781250029997

  First Edition: April 2015