I don’t know if Bea’s lesson actually put magic in my stomach. But I’m more than sure Jake put a fireball of furious loathing in my heart. I’ve been imagining Mrs. Hamilton poisoning Scottie ever since he planted the idea in my head.
I tried to be fair about it. I even asked Rod on the ride home (and yes, he was more than ticked off at waiting so long) if he thought the cook who has worked for us for the last two years could be capable of such a thing. He’s never met this one, but he said sure, and that people are always capable of stupid acts of grotesque horror when acting in their own selfish interests. That wasn’t really what I was looking for, but it told me his frame of mind was no more reliable than mine. So I just shut up, petted sweet Scottie, and let the fury grow. Read the rest of this entry