A Match Made for Murder Iona Whishaw (pride and prejudice read .TXT) 📖

Stifling a desire to point out that they weren’t that different, Ames said, “But I don’t want to get you out of your job. Why would you think that?”

“You’re a man, aren’t you?” She smiled suddenly, as if her anger over the sign was dissipating and had been replaced by the amusement of baiting Ames.

“Well, yes. But I still don’t see how it follows that I want you out of your job.” If he was honest with himself, he would admit that when he first met Tina Van Eyck in the summer, he’d held the firm view that a woman should not put a man out of a job, as Tina’s return from England had put a young mechanic out of work in her father’s garage. A conversation with Lane Winslow, a rescue by Miss Van Eyck over the matter of a flat tyre, and an almost accidental date had shifted his view somewhat.

“Look,” Tina said, “I have a couple of school friends, with good office jobs in town, who’ve been handed their pink slips. You know what they were told? That they ought to be happy to get back to their kitchens. That if they really need to work, they should try to find jobs more suited to women. I don’t mind the fellows coming back to their jobs, nothing wrong with that. But not every girl wants to hang around in a kitchen. I don’t.” She looked pointedly at him, sounding, perhaps, a warning note. “And as for that . . .” She pointed at the garish insult on the bay door. “That sort of thing can’t put me off. I lived through the London Blitz. Poor Dad is more upset than I am. And, if you want the naked truth, I’ve got no use for the police.”

Ames saw that Mr. Van Eyck was coming out of the garage with a can of red paint, and, at a loss for an adequate response to Tina’s words, he moved to approach him. “Sir, could you hold off on that? I’d like to go back to town and get my camera and snap a photo of it. This guy may be aiming this just at your garage, but he may go on to deface other properties. It would be good if we had a record.”

“Oh,” Mr. Van Eyck said uncertainly, looking at his daughter. It was clear he wanted to spare her feelings by removing the offensive word.

Tina walked Ames back to his car. “You don’t have to take a picture,” Tina said in an angry whisper, glancing back at where her father was putting the paint down. “I already know who did this. It’s a guy from near Willow Point. Barney Watts. He came with a car a couple of days ago, ignition trouble. He seemed nice, but the minute my dad was out of sight he made a pass at me. I gave him what-for, and he said some rude things. I haven’t told Dad.” Tina stopped and looked down, kicking at a clump of grass with her foot. “I don’t want my dad to think he needs to be looking out for me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ames protested gallantly.

“I know. It’s just the usual stupid stuff. But Dad would be upset. I don’t want to have to try to calm him down as well.”

“If I can get the man’s address, I could go see him, but I still don’t want you to clean off that paint, sorry, till I record it, just in case this Barney fellow isn’t the one. Did you hear a car or anything during the night?”

“Just forget about it. I don’t want anything done. And no, I didn’t hear a thing. There was a pretty good wind, so I don’t think we would have heard if someone had driven up. Anyway, I told you. Leave it. Dad and I will paint the garage and get on with our lives.” They stood silently and watched Mr. Van Eyck leave the garage and go into the house. They both spoke at once, “I heard . . .” she said, at the same time as his “I don’t think . . .”

“You go first,” Ames said.

“I was just going to say I heard your boss is away. Are you running the show? What were you going to say?”

“It doesn’t matter. Yes, they went to Arizona, so I’m as in charge as anyone in that place lets me be. The boys give me the gears from time to time, but they’re okay.”

Tina stood with her hands in her pockets and smiled again. “Look, it’s a free country, so you can take the picture, because I do understand it might not be him and you have to have some record,” she said. “But don’t go see him. It would just make it worse. Trust me, police involvement will only muck it up. I can handle this.”

“I don’t exactly hold with the idea that not confronting a bully will make him stop. That’s what the police are for. In fact, it’s why I’m a policeman. It’s against the law to deface other people’s property. Simple as that.”

“Yeah, well, I confronted him when he thought he could paw me, and that’s the result,” she said crossly, indicating the garish message on the garage door.

Ames drove back to town, his brow furrowed. He’d never really thought of how much of that sort of nonsense women like Tina had to put up with from men. If he were honest, he always assumed it was part of the deal. Men, he readily admitted, were awkward around women and probably didn’t have a clue how to get their attention. He certainly found it awkward every day of the week. But there was a continuum. He was at one end with his fancy shoe gambit, and the men who thought women were there to be pawed, and worse, were at the other end. Worse, when he