The Merchant of Menace

the people they studied were being patronized. Not quite skewered, just a hint. There were a lot of ‘bad guys’ and not many ‘good guys.’ “
    “And housewives like us make excellent targets. Oh, Shelley, imagine how they might be describing my parties, or Suzie’s blatant man-hunting or Julie Newton’s general ditsiness.“
    “Do you think they told the police the truth about who they really are and what they’re doing here?“ Shelley asked. “They couldn’t make up a story about their background in Hog Wallow or wherever they might claim to be from without a background check showing that they were lying. And lying to the police isn’t a good idea.”
    Jane got up to refill their drinks. Shelley trailed along and opened the freezer door to get more ice. “Why don’t you get that ice-maker fixed?“
    “Inertia,“ Jane said.
    “Got anything to eat?”
    Jane laughed. “I’m the Queen of Leftover Cookies, Shelley.”
    As they sat back down to nibble, Jane said, “I wish Mel had more time to fill us in. Do you think I should call him?“
    “And risk having to talk to Addie?“
    “Good point. Shelley, could this mean they had something to do with Lance King’s death? A motive? You used the word ‘exposé’ a while ago. If we’re right about them changing their technique, they and Lance were both in the exposé business. Maybe he found out who they really were.”
    Shelley considered this. “But the worst he could have said about them was that they were best-selling authors. That’s an accolade, not something to be ashamed of.“
    “If you’re concealing the fact of how you earn your living—and it’s a good living, it sounds like—having it known could be a big financial threat.“
    “Oh, right. We’d all be on our best behavior if we knew what they were really doing and they wouldn’t get a true picture? Still, Jane, it doesn’t seem to me to be a good enough motive to actually murder someone to keep them quiet. That would really wreck their careers if they were found out.”
    Jane lit another cigarette, wondering as she did whether two of them so close together would make her dizzy.
    “I sincerely hope you’re right, Shelley, because if knowing their true identity caused them to kill Lance King, you and I could be in big trouble. Now we know who they are.”

Eighteen

    Sunday morning Jane dragged herself and the kids to the nine o’clock church services. She didn’t feel like getting dressed up and going out in the cold any more than they did. But then she often didn’t feel like going and was always glad afterwards that she’d made the effort. The Sunday before Christmas was always especially beautiful and uplifting. It was really a lovely morning. Very cold and clear and very little wind and a brilliant sun shining on the two inches or so of new snow that had fallen overnight.
    “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?“ she said as they drove home.
    Mike had the Sunday paper in the car and just rattled it in reply. Todd was trying to get the comics away from his older brother and said nothing, but Katie said, “It was okay.“
    “Okay? Come on! I saw you going all gooey when those little bitty kids came up the aisle to put their gifts at the manger scene.“
    “All right. It was nice,“ Katie admitted. “They sure were cute, weren’t they? Are the packages real presents?“
    “Were you paying attention? They’re presents for the children at the homeless shelter. Katie, see if the car heater’s working right. It’s awfully cold.“
    “The bank clock across the street showed it dropped four degrees while we were in church,“ Mike contributed from the back seat.
    “I haven’t had time to watch the news,“ Jane said. “Is it supposed to get really cold?”
    There was a consensus of shrugs. Jane told herself to remember to leave the faucet dripping in the guest bathroom where the pipes were most likely to freeze. When they drove up to the house, Pet was at the side kitchen door and Mel was sitting in front keeping warm in his MG.
    When they were all inside and had shed their coats, Jane started working on throwing together a real breakfast. “Mel, I thought I might make a nice big batch of chili for dinner. Would you and your mother like to come?“
    “Can’t,“ he said. “She’s got some old friends who already invited us to dinner. I’d much rather come here. These are people I haven’t seen since I was seven and have never missed.”
    He’d pitched