"Davidson,.MaryJanice.-.Betsy.1.-.Undead.and.Unwed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

an old friend and newly discovered jewel in one package.



CHAPTER ONE
The day I died started out bad and got worse in a hurry.
I hit my snooze alarm a few too many times and was late for work. And didn't
have time for breakfast. Okay, that's a lie, I gobbled a pair of chocolate Pop
Tarts while waiting for the bus. My mom would have approved (who do you think
got me hooked on the darned things?), but a nutritionist would have smacked me
upside the head with her calorie counter.
At a nine a.m. meeting I found out the recession (the one the President has been
denying for two years) had hit me right between the eyes: I had been laid off.
Not unexpected, but it hurt, just the same. They had to slash costs, and god
forbid any of senior management be shown the door. Nope; the clerks and
secretaries had been deemed expendable.
I cleaned out my desk, avoided the way my co-workers were avoiding looking at me
(the ones left, that is), and scuttled home.
As I walked through my front door I saw my answering machine light winking at me
like a small black dragon. The message was from my stepmonster: "Your father and
I won't be able to make it to your party tonight?I just realized we have an
earlier commitment. Sorry." Sure you are, jerk. "Have fun without us." No
problem. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight." Translation: Maybe some poor slob
will marry you and take you off my hands. My stepmonster had, from day one,
related to me in only one way: as a rival for her new husband's affections.
I went into the kitchen to feed my cat, and that's when I noticed she'd run away
again. Always looking for adventure, my Giselle (although it's more like I'm her
Betsy).
I looked at the clock. My, my. Not even noon.
Happy birthday to me.
* * * * *
As it turned out, we had a freak April snowstorm, and my party was postponed.
Just as well?I didn't feel like going out, putting on a happy face, and drinking
one too many daiquiris. The Mall of America is a terrific place, but I've got to
be in the mood for crowds, overpriced retail merchandise, and six dollar drinks.
Tonight I wasn't.
Nick called around eight p.m., and that was my day's sole bright spot. Nick
Berry was a detective who worked out of St. Paul. I'd been attacked a couple of
months before, and?
Okay, well, "attacked" is putting it mildly. I don't like to talk about it?to
think about it?but what happened was, a bunch of creeps jumped me as I was
leaving Kahn's Mongolian Barbecue (all you can eat for $11.95, including salad,
dessert, and free refills). I have no idea what they wanted?they didn't take my
purse or try to rape me. Basically, they clawed and bit at me like a bunch of
rabid squirrels while I fended them off with the toes of my Manolo Blahniks and
screamed for help as loud as I could?so loud I couldn't speak above a whisper
for three days. Help didn't come, but the bad guys ran away. Skittered away,
actually. While I leaned against my car, concentrating on not passing out, I
glanced back and it looked like a few of them were on all fours.
Nick was assigned to the case, and he interviewed me in the hospital while they