Hangman's Root by Susan Wittig Albert Page A

the mall that afternoon. "Hang Harwick instead." Was it possible that sombody else had hung Harwick? He was a small man, and he might not have been fully conscious when he was hung. If he had been subdued first, the autopsy would indicate how it was done. A blow to the head, maybe. I thought of the brown liquid in the bottom of the coffee cup on his desk. Or a sedative.

    McQuaid looked up at Bob. "Has Bubba got a suspect yet?"
    "The way Dottie tells it," I said, "nobody liked him. There'll probably be a flock of suspects."
    Bob raised his shoulders and dropped them in a quien sabe? gesture. "Don't think so." He grinned. "Unless maybe it's that blonde. He was sure watchin' her mighty close."
    "She's the chief of Campus Security," McQuaid said, lathering sour cream onto his chicken.
    Bob's eyebrows were two bushy red arches. "No shit.'" He whistled. "Boy, I tell you, you can lock me in her jail any ol' time."
    "Forget it," McQuaid said. "The guy she's engaged to is one big sonofagun. Real John Wayne type." I grinned, imagining Smart Cookie married to the Duke. It would serve them both right.
    Bob shook his head sadly. "Story of my life. How 'bout that pitcher?"
    An hour later, after the fajitas, a second pitcher, and a fast round of pool, McQuaid and I adjourned to my place. What happened after that was slow, sweet, and deeply satisfying.
    "Romantic enough to suit you?" McQuaid asked, dislodging Khat from the corner of the bed and untangling his long legs from the sheet. Khat flicked his tail to indicate his displeasure with the entire sequence of events and jumped up onto the top of the wardrobe, where he licked one paw and gave us the evil eye.
    "I'm with Bob," I remarked, stretching lazily. "If you ain't got romance, a little sex'll do just fine."
    McQuaid got up, straightened the sheet and the blanket and tucked them in at the foot of the bed. He climbed back in and pulled me against him.

"How about a lot of sex?" he asked, his voice muffled.
    As I was drifting off to sleep a little while later, snuggled up against McQuaid's warm back, I reflected that living together

    had certain fringe benefits. It might not be so hard to get used to, after all. Sleepily, I said, "I love you," to McQuaid's back.
    He reached a hand around and patted the first thing he touched, which happened to be my hip. "Me, too," he mumbled.
    Bob was right. No romance.
    The party at Ruby's the next night reminded me of a reunion of sharks. Amy arrived late, clad in black baggies and a black tee with the words "Cows Cry Louder Than Cabbages" on the front and "Eat Your Veggies" on the back. The short red hair over her ears was freshly clipped and the little tail in back was tied with a string and decorated with a black feather. She was sullen, responding to most questions with a muttered "yes" or "no" and inclined to snap. She pointedly refused Ruby's roast beef and concentrated ostentatiously on carrots and string beans.
    The other guests behaved with about the same degree of civility. Ruby's mother, a thin-lipped, sharp-chinned woman, never once spoke directly to her newfound granddaughter and spent the entire evening looking as if she smelled something she didn't like. Shannon, Ruby's other daughter, seemed to suspect her stepsister of planning to make off with the family silver. Ruby's sister Ramona made a half-effort to engage Amy, and when she was rebuffed, lapsed into a pout. Ruby tried to paper over everybody's surliness by laughing too loud and being too cheerful, while I attemped to steer the combatants toward neutral territory. By nine-thirty, I was ready to call it an evening.
    "It isn't going too well, is it?" Ruby said to me in the kitchen, where we were putting the dessert plates into the dishwasher. Shannon, Ramona, and Ruby's mother were settling down to Trivial Pursuit. Amy had been in the bathroom for ten minutes.
    "I'm afraid not," I said. "Your mother and sister don't seem

    crazy about adding onto the family, and Shannon thinks Amy