Irregardless of Murder (Miss Prentice Cozy Mysteries) by E. E. Kennedy Page A

frigid, or whatever odious term current so-called experts might use.
    Now here was Gil, doing me the favor of showing me I had been absolutely, totally, and completely mistaken. I responded, all right. Responded my little heart out. It was quite a moment, and, if you want my opinion, could have gone on for quite some time, but the phone rang. We tried ignoring it, but almost immediately, there was a delicate rapping at the door.
    Gil whispered an oath under his breath, then said, “Go on, answer that. I’ll get the door.”
    It was Lily Burns. “Hope I didn’t wake you, dear,” she began. I looked at the kitchen clock. It was four-twelve. What kind of sluggard did she think I was?
    “No, Lily,” I said, smiling to myself, “you didn’t.”
    “Well, I just wanted to tell you I’ll pick you up at eight-fifteen tomorrow morning. A little bit early for a Saturday, I know, but I want to catch the first ferryboat.”
    “Pick me up?”
    “You know, the sale at JJ Peasemarsh. Don’t you remember?”
    “Oh, yes, I do now.”
    “You can go, can’t you? I mean, your head is all right, isn’t it?”
    “It’s fine. And yes, I suppose I can go.”
    “You suppose? Don’t do me any favors, Amelia.”
    “Oh, forgive me, Lily, but I’ve got company.” I could hear Gil conversing with someone out in the hall. The voice was female. Probably Marie LeBow, I thought, remembering her promise to come over.
    “Company? Oh, really? Who is it?” Lily’s ears pricked up so fast, her earrings positively rattled.
    “Uh, it’s a long story. I’ll have to tell you about it tomorrow.”
    Surely I could come up with a plausible cover story by then. You give people like Lily Burns and Judith Dee a couple of sentences, they write a novel.
    “So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you in the morning.”
    “Wait! There was something else. What was it? Oh—Marie LeBow called me after lunch today and said she’d tried to get you at school. They told her you’d gone home, so she called you there, but no answer.”
    I must have been in transit in Vern’s cab.
    Lily continued, “She said—um, let me think—she said, she couldn’t come tonight, but she still wanted to give you something important.”
    “Important? Did she say what it is? Did she want me to come to her house?”
    Lily heaved a huge sigh. “Amelia, how on earth should I know? I’m simply passing on the message. Marie seemed to think you’d understand, poor woman. Maybe it has to do with funeral plans. She did sound a bit out of breath. Maybe she was crying. I couldn’t tell. Why don’t you call her and find out for sure?”
    “I will.”
    “Well, then. Tomorrow at eight-fifteen.”
    I hung up and headed back into the entrance hall. “Gil, that was Lily—Gil?”
    Nobody was there. I heard the faint sounds of conversation somewhere above my head. I followed the voices upstairs to my bedroom, where I found Gil together with Sally Jennings, the real estate agent. They were not exactly in a compromising position, but it was certainly a curious one.
    Sally was standing, stocking footed, on tiptoe on Aunt Daisy’s antique vanity chair, extending her arm high above her, tape measure in hand, apparently trying to determine the exact height of the ceiling. It was a pose that displayed her spectacular, leggy figure to best advantage.
    Gil was leaning, arms folded over his chest, in the doorframe, watching.
    “Give me a hand here, would you, Gil?” she trilled.
    “I’ll help you, Sally,” I said.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what appeared to be a large gray fur pillow dead-center on my tapestry bedspread. Sam’s eyes narrowed and challenged me to make something of it. I decided not to air dirty family linen. It was my own fault, anyway. If only I hadn’t relaxed the rules last night.
    “Why, Amelia!”
    Sally seemed astonished to see me. What did she expect? It was my house. She retracted the flat metal tape with the press of a button and leapt lightly