Murder at the Arlington: Chapter 16
by Kathleen Kaska
When Ruth and I returned to our rooms, I faked a headache just to get some time to myself. I expected her to whine and pout, but she surprised me.
“I’ve things to do,” Ruth said. “I was so worried when you disappeared that I let everything go.”
I imagined nails, hair, eyebrow plucking. But she caught me off guard again when she said, “I have to catch up on my reading.” The thought that she may be developing an interest in the literary world was dispelled when I noticed that spread across her bed were the latest copies of Harper’s Bazaar, Glamour, Ladies’ Home Journal, and Mademoiselle.
I left Ruth to catch up on the latest fashions. I mean, who else would tell me what Doris Day was wearing lately, or whom Eva Gardner was divorcing. I had a quiet dinner in my room, then pulled out The Catcher in the Rye, but couldn’t get through one paragraph of Holden Caufield’s yammerings. I don’t know if it was the teacher in me, or my recent brush with death, but I wanted to take the young man by the shoulders and shake some sense into his adolescent brain. His problems were teeny weeny compared to my recent adventures.
