By Susan Conant
ISBN-10: 1436287707
ISBN-13: 9781436287708
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It had a bare fireplace and was empty except for a big vase of lilies on a Chinese table. There was a powerful smell of exotic food. ” Felicity repeated. She pointed toward the door through which she’d just entered. ” Zora asked. ” The urge to shout at foreigners was uncontrollable. “A dead person! A person who is dead! Or hurt! ” “Get Tom,” Zora said. ” The tiny woman disappeared and reappeared with her husband, who was also very small and looked even younger than his wife. “Tom Wang,” he said, holding out his hand.
The corpse in Felicity’s vestibule was in no condition for public viewing. To say nothing of the stench. Such was Felicity’s policy in writing about death: Say nothing of the stench! As to the blue-gray cat, it had no place here asleep at her doorstep, dwelling as it did in a sphere of existence where, in Felicity’s opinion, cats did not belong; in nasty contrast to the feline characters in her books, the cat was indisputably real. Indeed, the entire scene was one she would never have written: It was monstrous.
She had been reading the genre since her Nancy Drew days and felt justified in buying as many mysteries as she pleased from Ronald, not only because she wanted to support his business and enjoyed the books, but because she liked keeping a tax-deductible eye on the competition. Neither of her purchases had anything to do with cats. As a matter of principle, Felicity never contributed to the royalties of other cat-mystery writers. She took it for granted that her rivals weren’t foolish enough to buy her books new, either.
Scratch the Surface by Susan Conant
by Michael
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