Christmas Stalkings Read Online Free Page B

smoke it?”
    “Of course not, she’d rather die. I just thought—oh, I don’t know what I thought. A kid in Florida had some pot once and I thought maybe Aunt Viola had picked some by accident. She likes to pick things and hang them up to dry; she thinks it looks picturesque. The stuff was there and I used it. All right, so I flunked botany. It’s the college’s fault, not mine. I never wanted to take botany in the first place. You and your dumb old curriculum!”
    “Very well, Miss Sissler, I’ll accept full culpability on behalf of the college if you’ll tell me what gave you the bright idea of hurling yourself into the breach.”
    “It was that notice they sent around yesterday from Security, about watching out for counterfeit money. I knew then that Aunt Viola’s work had been noticed, and they were out to get her. And it was all very well for her to say she wouldn’t mind going to jail, but she’d hate it really. Aunt Viola’s not young, you know, and she—well, she likes things nice. She’d miss her canary and her goldfish and I just think she’d die! And I do love her so. So I thought if I put marijuana in the cowpats it would make a stink and take Security’s mind off the counterfeit bills.”
    “It never occurred to you that you yourself might get caught? Or that your being arrested might be even harder on your aunt?”
    “Oh, no, why would they have arrested me? I mean, lots of people bake for the Illumination, they’re always bringing stuff. It could have been anybody. Well, maybe not just anybody. Anyway, I was going to make up this story about this mysterious stranger wearing a ski mask who—I guess I wasn’t very smart, was I? So what are you going to do, Professor Shandy?”
    “I’m going to finish my coffee and pay the check.”
    “And then what?”
    “Trust me, Miss Sissler. You may wish to do something about your face before we go. Your aunt will be at home this time of day, will she?”
    “No! Oh my God, I forgot! She’ll be coming up here to pass another bill. She said she was going to try it in broad daylight this time, because nobody’s noticed the last two times and she thought it might be on account of the dark and all those crazy colored lights. Come on, we’ve got to head her off!”
    Pausing only long enough for Miss Sissler to dip her napkin in her water glass and mop the tear streaks off her face and for Peter to leave some money on the table, they rushed forth into the by now fairly thickly touristed Illumination area. The cats were all gone, but a small, slight figure in an outmoded dark-green winter coat with a black astrakhan collar and a black felt hat that Peter vaguely recalled having seen around the village off and on for the past couple of decades was just coming up the walkway, her eye fixed grimly on the third gingerbread house.
    “There she is!” cried Miss Sissler. “Hurry!”
    He travels fastest who travels alone. Peter left the mobcapped freshman to struggle through as best she might, and plunged straight through the mob, abandoning gentility in the interests of alacrity. He reached the small, slight figure about two elbows’ lengths before she’d got to the fateful counter.
    “Miss Harp?” Peter was again the gentleman, his hat raised, his countenance affable. “My name is Shandy. I was on my way to call on you, on behalf of the college. I expect this is a bad time to come asking a favor, but I’d be very grateful if you could spare me a moment Ah, here’s your niece. Miss Sissler, would you join us? I wonder if you’d both do me the honor of stepping over to my house? It’s that little red brick one over there. I’m not sure whether my wife’s at home, but I know she’s been wanting to meet you. She’s a great admirer of your work, as are we all.”
    “Really?” Miss Harp wasn’t too dumbfounded to forget her grievance so easily. “I don’t recall anyone’s ever having said so.”
    “ M’well , Miss Harp, if the college’s