Dead Pan Read Online Free Page A

there’s a reason that many people got sick that fast.”
    My shoulders slumped. “And we need to find out what that reason is.”
    *
    Ben had left, and I’d finished the gum paste dolls. They actually looked pretty good. Leaving the dolls sitting on Styrofoam blocks on the island to set, I slipped on my jacket and took a piece of ham out of the refrigerator. Then I went onto the porch and called for Sparrow.
    Sparrow, it seems, came with the house. Not long after I moved here, I caught a fleeting glimpse of the skinny little one-eyed Persian and began to feed her. She isn’t skinny anymore, but she still is a bit skittish. Lucas and Leslie named her Sparrow in honor of Johnny Depp’s character, Captain Jack Sparrow. They said the one eye made her look like a pirate cat.
    I saw the cat emerge slowly from beneath a bush at the upper end of my backyard.
    “Come on, Sparrow.” I tore off a piece of the ham and tossed it just beyond the porch.
    She hurried to get it, watching to be sure I didn’t make any sudden movements. As she ate, I tossed another piece of ham—this one, a little closer to where I sat. She came and ate that one, too.
    We’ve been practicing this exercise for a few weeks now, and it’s beginning to pay off. I can’t actually pet Sparrow yet, but she will brush up against me occasionally now.
    I kept throwing bits of ham until Sparrow was coming within a foot of me. I decided to try something new with the last piece. I held it out toward her. She took a step forward and extended her neck so she could sniff the ham. She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to drop it. I continued to hold the morsel out to her.
    “Come on, girl,” I said softly. “You can have it.”
    Her expression seemed to say, “If I can have it, then drop it.”
    Reluctantly, I did drop it in front of her. She ate it, but she didn’t hurry away as I’d expected. I stood and, although she darted out of reach, she didn’t flee the porch. We were making progress.
    I stepped back inside and retrieved the bag of cat food I’d bought at Dobbs Pet Store. As I filled Sparrow’s bowl, she brushed against the back of my leg. She then moved to what she apparently considered a safe distance away until I returned to the house. Then, she came to the bowl and ate. She looked up once to see me standing at the window, stared at me for a moment, and then continued eating her meal. I smiled to myself. Yes, we were definitely making progress.
    Fran’s little blue Beetle pulled into the driveway. I was still hoping for good news; but even if the hospital and Fran were convinced Fred’s death was at least partially due to his preexisting condition, Ben wasn’t. On the other hand, Ben wasn’t actually expecting me to investigate . . . was he?
    I opened the door. “Hi, Fran. Any news?”
    From the corner of my eye, I saw Sparrow sprint around the side of the house.
    “Cute cat,” Fran said. “I’m sorry I scared her.”
    “That’s okay. She’ll be back once we go inside.” I held open the door, and Fran preceded me into the living room.
    “Sorry it took me so long. I had to convince the hospital I truly am a relative and not just some nosy kid or a reporter or something. They’ve apparently been having trouble with reporters trying to gather information. And, naturally, they have to tell these people, ‘Hello? We’re running a hospital, not a news bureau.’ Anyway, the hospital finally revealed that they don’t believe Fred’s death was due to his brain injury.” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “In fact, they’re as perplexed as we are as to why everyone else got better and Fred didn’t. But they won’t know more until they get the autopsy results.”
    I nodded, silently taking all this in and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
    “What do we do next?” Fran asked.
    There it went.
    *
    I told Fran I had some cakes to finish up and that I did my best thinking while I worked. We went into the kitchen,