Wife or Death Read Online Free Page A

himself a Scotch and water. “Listen to that innocent tone. I saw you charming the pants off the girls tonight. Jim, you’d better keep an eye on Angel when Gerald’s around. He danced with her twice.”
    â€œThree times,” the old gentleman said promptly. “Norman is jealous because I cut in. Charming girl, your wife, Jim. Twenty—well, even ten—years ago you’d have had to watch me.”
    â€œI’m not the least bit worried, Mr. Trevor,” Denton said Delphically. The millionaire gave him a keen look.
    George Guest said hastily, “Norm, how long are you planning to stay this trip?”
    â€œI ought to get back to work in a couple of weeks, but Gerald would throw a fit if I dragged him away before he got in some deer. He’s hotter about hunting than I am. And he’s the big wheel, so I have to humor him.”
    â€œNorman likes to preserve the fiction that I still run things,” Trevor said fondly. “If you’re really that eager to get back to work, Norman, you can leave tomorrow.”
    â€œAnd miss the deer? Don’t be silly!”
    The tycoon and his son-in-law exchanged affectionate grins. The inevitable opinion in some quarters that Norman Wyatt owed his success to his marriage to the daughter of the head of Trevor-United Studios was not shared by Denton. It had always seemed to Denton that if Wyatt had charmed himself into his present position, he had charmed the father as much as the daughter.
    The doorbell rang and Wyatt came from behind the bar to answer it. As he opened the door the sky lit up and there was a great rumble of thunder, and a crash. Fat Clara Sommers, standing on the porch with her husband, shrieked and nearly bowled Wyatt over in her panic to get indoors.
    Her equally fat husband roared with laughter. “Never knew you could move that fast, Clar’. You looked like a cat with a scalded tail.”
    â€œThat hit awfully close,” Clara Sommers panted. “Did I hurt you, Norman?”
    â€œThink nothing of it.” Wyatt was peering out, and Denton strolled over to join him. By the light of the street lamp before the house they could see the long spattering drops still coming straight down.
    Wyatt said, “That was close,” and shut the door.
    Ardis Wyatt, Angel and Corinne had hurried in from the dining room. The three women looked frightened.
    â€œWhat was that?” Ardis gasped.
    â€œThe crack of doom,” Denton said.
    â€œNo—seriously. That sounded as if it missed us by a hair.”
    Norm Wyatt said, “A miss is as good as her smile. Come on, Ardis, light up!” His wife smiled faintly. “You kitchen help ready for a drink?” He went back to tending bar.
    Apparently the buffet was ready, for Ardis and Corinne and Angel remained in the living room. Wyatt had just finished preparing drinks for them and the Sommerses when the other guests arrived.
    Most were married but two unaccompanied men showed up.
    One was young Arnold Long. He had completed his hitch for Uncle Sam less than a year ago, and Denton suspected that he and the United States Army had parted company with equal pleasure. Arnold was good-looking in a sharp-eyed, oily-haired way; he was shrewd, ingratiating and without ambition. Apparently he had no plans for going to work, for he was running around town in a brand-new white Avanti, the rakish gift of his mama, usually heading its futuristic fiberglass body for some leafy bower in the hills with one of the girls employed in Long Senior’s small machine-parts factory. As far as Denton had ever been able to make out, young Arnold’s sole genuine enthusiasm was for seducing factory girls in lovers’ lanes; he had been invited here by the Wyatts, Denton was sure, only because they were fond of his father. Mr. and Mrs. Long were in bunny costumes; their son wore a scornful dinner jacket. He looked well in dinner jackets.
    The other bachelor was