Blood Music Read Online Free Page B

myself.”
    â€œAnd the baseball all to yourself.” But she was pleased.
    â€œOf course. I love to think about baseball. Maybe later you can give me a reason to think about baseball. Here, I’ll take her. What were you crying about, Mary-girl?
    â€œI’m sorry I snapped at you, honey. I just want to relax tonight. I don’t want to listen to a lot of amateur detectives go on about why the Slasher this and why the Slasher that and a lot of crap about his mother or something.”
    â€œThere isn’t always a problem with the mother. They almost never find out why they really do it.”
    â€œNo more, okay? And he’s not going to come over tonight and tell your dinner guests why, either.”
    â€œOh, he isn’t? And after I invited him specially.”
    â€œHe’d love your hair.”
    â€œAs long as you love my hair.”
    â€œI do. Anything more for me to peel? I feel like I’m on KP duty.”
    â€œJust the onions for the salad.”
    â€œI know something else I’d rather peel.”
    He joked too much; she didn’t want to be disappointed later. She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Later,” she said. “Now we have to cook.”

5
    M ary had gone down like a lamb, and everybody had liked the raviolis. Zelly had never tried anything quite that ambitious before. Maybe she would subscribe to Gourmet. Now she was stacking plates, flinching every time a piece of china banged sharply against the deep porcelain sides of the sink. All through dinner she’d been afraid somebody would start talking about the Slasher and irritate Pat again but nobody had. She could hear voices in the living room. When she turned on the water it was too hot and she burned her hand. Then she was just washing the dishes.
    Zelly had made coffee and now Greg and Pat would be waiting for the baseball game to start, and while they waited they would discuss the abstruse particulars of the game so dear to men. Lizzie and Gail would be talking about their jobs. When Zelly came back into the room they would talk about how they wanted to quit their jobs and do what Zelly was doing, staying home and taking care of a baby. Philip would probably be talking with the women.
    When Zelly turned the water off the voices from the living room came on suddenly, as if she’d flicked a volume knob on too loud. “—afraid to go into the city,” Gail was saying. Coming into the room Zelly looked over at Pat but he was looking determinedly into space.
    â€œJust in time, Zelly!” cried Philip. “They’re playing your song!”
    â€œI was just saying that with these Slasher attacks it’s getting so I’m afraid to go into the city at all,” said Gail.
    â€œI wouldn’t worry,” Pat said, “you’re not his type.”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Zelly. “He goes after women with blond hair.”
    â€œLike you, Zelda,” said Pat, laughing.
    â€œI hate it when you call me that. And I know like me. I don’t even feel safe here in Hoboken.”
    Lizzie leaned over toward Zelly. “What’s that nail polish?” she asked.
    â€œRosewood,” Zelly answered, waggling her fingers. “From the QuickChek.”
    â€œYou think that murder at Stevens was the same guy?” Philip asked.
    â€œI told you, Zel, if you’re worried just don’t go up there,” said Pat.
    â€œThat’s easy for you to say,” Gail said.
    â€œI think the weird part is the staging,” Zelly said. Pat was looking at her but she didn’t pay any attention.
    â€œWhat’s staging?” asked Lizzie.
    â€œStaging is when the killer leaves the body in such a way that not only is it certain to be found, but he’s making a statement in the way the body is first seen.”
    â€œYou mean like a tableau?”
    â€œExactly,” said Zelly. Pat had wandered over to the television and stood