All Chickens Must Die: A Benjamin Wade Mystery Read Online Free Page B

Sure, she was
telling me about some guy who she thought was trying to get her, but she was
easily someone I wouldn’t mind having on my arm.
    I kept that little tidbit to myself. “Miss Milbanks, what makes
you think Peete is out to get you?”
    She sighed. “Two things. One was an offhand comment Mr. Teague
made on Monday.”
    I frowned. “I thought we were talking about Peete.”
    “We are,” she said, just a little too rushed, “but Mr. Teague
plays into it. Early Monday morning, Mr. Teague casually mentions that it would
be in my best interests to forget what I heard, if I heard anything. He said
he’d hate to have to replace me in case I got into an accident.”
    I looked at her evenly, weighing the words. It was certainly a
plausible non-threat that was, in fact, a threat. If it came up in court, he
could deny he said it or, at worst, come across as a boss who was just
wondering what might happen if Clara got hit by a bus. On the other hand,
Teague was clearly threatening Clara to stay silent.
    And just had just broken her silence. With me.
    “I see what you mean.” I shook out a cigarette from my pack of
Camels and offered her one. She took one and I lit both with my Zippo. “Any
comment like that since then?”
    “No.”
    “And where does Peete fit into this?”
    She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Maybe I’m just making
too much of it.”
    “Tell me and I’ll tell you if you’re making too much of it.”
    “Well, I had never seen Mr. Peete at all until last Friday. Then,
on Saturday, as I was at the grocery store, I bumped into him. We talked. One
thing led to another and he asked me out that evening.”
    “And?”
    “And we went out. We saw this new movie, Road to Singapore ,
with Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, and Dorothy Lamour. It was a gas. Afterwards, we
went out for drinks. It was all very nice. He tried to kiss me as he dropped me
off at home, but it was all awkward.”
    “I know you’re getting somewhere but I don’t see the problem.”
    “Well, I bumped into him again on Sunday. This time, at church.”
    I shrugged. “So, if I got this right, you see him first on
Friday, you see him again on Saturday and y’all go out on a date, then you see
him again on Sunday morning. Could it be that he’s just smitten with you?”
    Another minor blush tinted her face. “I suppose. But after
church, we had lunch. He started asking a lot more particular questions about
my daily life, where I got my hair done, what I did for fun besides dance. It
got creepy. So much so that I excused myself after the meal and went home. Late
that afternoon, I took a stroll to my friend’s house for bridge”—she paused, as
if for effect—”and I saw him again along the way.”
    “You sure it was him?”
    “Mr. Wade, I know what I saw. He was there, and he followed me.
I’m sure of it.”
    “Was he there when you walked home?” I was beginning to see a
pattern.
    “I think so. Maybe he was better at hiding from me, but I
certainly got the feeling I was being watched.”
    “And has it continued since then?”
    She nodded. “I saw him getting his shoes shined just yesterday
after work.”
    “He see you?”
    “Sure. He said ‘hello’ and ‘fancy meeting you here.’”
    I glanced out the windows at the shoe shine right outside the
diner. There were two men sitting in the chairs and three standing in line
waiting. Of the three men, two were reading the newspaper. The third appeared
to be looking directly at me.
    I swept my eyes past him, hoping I appeared as nonchalant as
possible. “Let me ask you a question. This Peete fellow, he wear a dark gray
fedora? Have a face that’s long in the chin with a dimple?”
    The color that had pinked Clara’s face vanished. She stared at me
and started to turn around.
    I reached out and clasped her hand. “Don’t turn around. You might
tip him off.” I reached around and slipped my wallet from my pocket. I didn’t
want Peete to see me doing this for fear