A Willing Murder (Medlar Mystery 1)

Jack looked back at the book. “Last night I remembered that one day when I was there Cheryl was washing some girl’s hair. I told Gil and he found her.”

“Ah,” Sara and Kate said in unison.

“Not like that!” Jack’s teeth were clenched. “Gil, help me out here. These two think only bad of Cheryl.”

“That’s not true,” Sara said. “Her mother, yes, but not Cheryl.”

Jack threw up his hands. “What is with you women? You’d be more forgiving if you found out Verna was an ax murderer. But—”

“I do tend to admire Lizzie Borden,” Kate said.

Jack shot her a look and continued. “But screwing men for money and you act like she’s the devil incarnate.”

“She’s stealing our strength,” Sara said. “She’s giving men what they want so other women can’t use it to threaten them to take out the garbage. Loose women undermine the only real power women have over men.”

Jack started to protest, but then he saw the twinkle in Sara’s eyes. “So this is about garbage?”

Sara looked at Kate, then back. “More or less.”

When Jack laughed, Sara grinned at Kate. Gil turned back to the book and the plain girl. “Elaine Langley. She married Jim Pendal. They moved away and I h

aven’t seen either of them since high school.”

“I knew his dad,” Sara said. “Very nice family. I guess. They seemed to be.”

Gil turned the pages to show Jim’s photo. He was a handsome young man.

No one said what they were all thinking: that girl and this boy were not a physical match.

“Elaine was real smart,” Gil said into the silence.

“I think he is the smart one,” Kate said. “A man who can look past the exterior is brilliant.”

“Then why are you so worried about the color of your hair?” Jack shot back.

“Because most men aren’t smart,” Kate said.

“I think—” Jack began.

“What do you remember about Cheryl?” Sara loudly asked Gil. “And let’s move to the couches.”

When they were settled, Gil said, “I haven’t thought of anything else since Jack called me. Cheryl and I were in the same class, but she was above my league.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Sara said. “You were a football star and your parents live on the west side of town. Cheryl lived—” She waved her hand. “You know.”

“Sometimes in school things like that get lost. Cheryl was smart and the teachers loved her. And she wore nice clothes all the time. It was like she lived in a world all her own. She was different from the rest of us.”

“Who were her friends?” Sara asked. “In my experience, high-school girls travel in packs. Snarling, sneering, dangerous little packs.”

“Were you part of one?” Jack asked.

Sara smiled. “Not at all. I’m an outsider and I’ve always been one.” She looked at Kate in question.

“Sorry. I had lots of friends. Very much not an outsider.” She looked at Jack but he said nothing. But then, she already knew. Good-looking, athletic boys ruled high schools everywhere.

“Those girls used to scare me to death,” Gil said. “But I don’t think I ever saw Cheryl with anyone else.”

“What about in a couple?” Kate asked. “Boyfriends?”