"Mary Janice Davidson - Betsy 01 - Undead And Unwed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

тАЬUmmтАжmost of the gang from work. And your former boss! He lays you off, youdie , and the colossal
prick had the nerve to be all sad-eyed at your funeral.And ask me if I knew where youтАЩd kept the phone
number for the copy machine repair guy. Ugh. Of course, there wasnтАЩt actually a funeralтАжthey lost your
body! Picture it: weтАЩre all standing around, waiting for things to get started, and the head mortician guy
stands up and tells us thereтАЩs been тАШa slight problem.тАЩ Which I thought was weird until I walked into this
house and got a look at what weird really was. And speaking of weird, werenтАЩt you embalmed? I mean,
did it just not affect you, or did your folks cheap out and skip that step, or what?тАЭ

тАЬYouтАЩre askingme ? How the hell should I know?тАЭ I barely suppressed a shudder. Even the thought of
liposuction creeped me out, to say nothing of tubing and embalming fluid. A riddle I was in no hurry to
solve, and that was a fact. тАЬWhy are you here, anyway? Not that I mind, because you probably saved
me from wringing the AntтАЩs neck. But you hate my parents. DonтАЩt tell meтАФyou bought up their mortgage
from the bank and came over to foreclose on them.тАЭ

тАЬI wish. Thanks for the idea, though. I got a look at Mrs. TaylorтАЩs footgear at the funeral. I knew those
werenтАЩt her Pradas. So I figured IтАЩd come over and try to get them back.тАЭ

I smiled at her. She looked like an Egyptian queen, and fought for her friends like a rabid coyote. She
positively despised my father and his wife, but braved HellHouse the day of my funeral to get my shoes
back. тАЬOh, JessтАжwhy? I was dead, for all you knew. I didnтАЩt need them anymore.тАЭ

тАЬWell,I did,тАЭ she said tartly. Which was a lie; Jessica has feet like Magic Johnson. тАЬBesides, it wasnтАЩt
right. That jerk had to have swiped your dadтАЩs keys, snuck into your house, and stole! I knew you
wouldnтАЩt have wanted her to have them. I figured IтАЩd donate them to the Foot.тАЭ

I nodded. In her spare time (which was to say, fifty hours a week), Jessica ran The Right Foot. The
Foot gave interviewing tips, advice, r├йsum├й assistance, and hand-me-down suits and accessories to
underprivileged women to use for job interviews. It would have been an excellent place for my shoes to
end up.

тАЬAwesome idea, and bless your heart for thinking of it.тАЭ I bundled my shoes into the ball gown, making
a sack out of the dress and slinging it over my shoulder like a vampiric Santa. тАЬOf course, thereтАЩll be
none of that now that IтАЩm back from the dead. LetтАЩs book.тАЭ

I scooped up AntoniaтАЩs jewelry box, stopped in the kitchen, and handed the sack of shoes to Jess, who
looked on with interest as I dumped the AntтАЩs jewelry into the blender, clapped the top on, and hit
тАШliquefyтАЩ. The grinding, jarring, screeching brought her on the run. My father, as was his long habit, went
to hide in his den, comforted by his proximity to his collection of old whiskey and new porn.

After a few seconds, during which time we all stared at the mightily vibrating blender, I let the whirling
blades groan to a halt. тАЬDonтАЩt youever go into my home again without permission. Touch my things
again, whether IтАЩm dead or not, and IтАЩll kick your ass up into your shoulder blades.тАЭ I said this perfectly
pleasantly while I yanked the handle off the fridge and handed it to her. тАЬGot it? Super. See you at
Easter.тАЭ

We left. The sight of Antonia OтАЩNeill Taylor shrinking back from me as I passed her was one IтАЩll
treasure forever.

CHAPTER SEVEN