Mulch ado about nothing

world admit it. Teenagers love a good fight, especially when it has to do with their taste or friends or appearance. This poor Kipsy only got slightly haughty twice. That’s a very low average.“
    “You’re a stranger to her. And you can be scary.“
    “Only when I’m trying,“ Shelley said. “But as for being a stranger, all the more reason she was entitled to be rude to me. But she wasn’t. You know, I think it’s possible her mother doesn’t really care what she does or how she looks. So she tries a little tattoo. Mom doesn’t say anything. So then she pierces her nose and Mom doesn’t notice. So she dyes her hair a perfectly awful color—“
    “Are you really trying to figure her out? She might have a devoted mother who cries herself to sleep for failing with this girl. The mother might have other daughters who are model kids and can’t figure out where Kipsy went wrong.”
    Shelley considered this. “You could be right.“
    “Say that again,“ Jane said, pretending to swoon. “I hear it so seldom. That roast is sure smelling great. Can you stay and eat it with us?“
    “I wish I could. Paul’s sister Constanza is coming to dinner.”
    Jane made an X in the air with her fingers. “Too bad. Has she searched your house lately?“
    “Not that I know of. But she’s gone to some diet that involves a lot of sprouts and pasta, and the only meat she can eat is veal and chicken. Skinned and broiled without fat.“
    “Last month it was only tofu and veggies, wasn’t it? Speaking of which, what did you think of Ursula’s garden?“ Jane asked.
    “I hate to admit this, but there were things I liked. If the marble fountain had been clear blue marbles instead of garish colors and maybe foil behind it, it would have been a knockout. I’ve been thinking of trying to find someone to make me one.“
    “Wish I’d seen it. I liked the statues. Especially the elegant lady in copper. And I think Miss Win stead admired some of the yard herself. I saw her taking notes.“
    “You seemed uneasy with Miss Winstead toward the end of lunch,“ Shelley said.
    “I’d said too much of what Mel told us. I felt guilty about shooting off my mouth. Then a little alarmed when she wanted me to keep her up on what other theories he was coming up with.“
    “That was peculiar of her, come to think of it. And so was her opinion that we thought Ms. Jackson’s attacker was someone in the class.”
    Jane was silent for a long moment. “But—what if it was?”

Thirteen

    “Why would it make any sense that the attacker was one of the class?“ Shelley asked.
    She and Jane were getting hungry smelling the roast cooking and had gone outside to sit on Jane’s patio. The heavy rains predicted for the rest of the day had stopped and it was cool and damp and reasonably comfortable outdoors.
    “It could be one of them, I guess,“ Jane said, looking sadly at her backyard. Max and Meow were sitting side by side, studying the field be hind the house for signs of movement. If another developer built houses there instead of going bankrupt before even starting, the cats would be bereft. The grass needed mowing, and there was a permanent path in a semicircle where Willard had been running back and forth for years from gate to gate, barking his fool head off at the mailman. There were even some dead leaves of tulips Jane had never gotten around to gathering up and disposing of. Her yard was really a disgrace.
    “But it could be anyone else as well,“ Shelley argued. “Someone in her family, her profession, maybe a neighbor she’d had a falling-out with. For that matter, it could be a complete stranger, or a drug-crazed lunatic who was randomly testing back doors for one that was open.“
    “The lunatic would have stolen what was on the ground floor and fled,“ Jane said.
    “Maybe or maybe not,“ Shelley argued, mainly for the purpose of arguing. “If he heard some body moving around in the basement, he might have gone straight down and attacked Ms. Jack son for no reason whatsoever. Someone seriously into drugs might have thought that was a good idea.“
    “I suppose with enough drugs, anybody might think anything is a good idea,“ Jane responded, but wasn’t considering the theory seriously and she doubted Shelley was either.
    Shelley said, “What if it was Dr. Eastman who attacked her?”
    Jane turned to look at her. “What would be the point of that?”
    Shelley shrugged. “His name just came to mind because