side as though trying to work out some kinks. A graceful neck was accented by a strong square jawline. Brown hair with hints of red curled around her shoulders. Her long nose gave her a royal sort of air, but her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen.
I assumed Hyacinth’s were as well. It was impossible to tell as she had on an even bigger and darker pair of sunglasses than I’d been wearing around today. Her shoulder-length blond hair was pulled back off her face with a wide velvet headband, and a cashmere sweater hugged her toned body. Except for the sunglasses, she would have looked like she was just having a normal lunch meeting.
I backed up and surreptitiously shooed Virgil to retreat as well. He was getting a mite too close. I wasn’t sure what his official cause of death had been exactly, but beyond every muscle in my body aching, I had trouble breathing properly when he was within a few feet of me. Collapsed lungs was my best guess.
“Have they said anything to each other?” I asked Eulalie.
“Not especially. Hyacinth came in asked for a moment of Avery’s time. They’ve been back there ever since. Do you think there’s going to be a catfight?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Are you hoping or preparing for the worst?”
“Hoping, of course!”
Laughing, I said, “Have you ever known Hyacinth Foster to raise her voice?”
“That holds no bearing, Carly Bell. Supposedly she killed her previous husbands, remember?”
All had died of natural causes.
A heart attack, a stroke, a blood clot.
Supposedly.
Either Hyacinth Foster had the worst luck of anyone on the planet, or she was a psychopath.
Bless her heart.
“ Shh, shh. Do you hear that?” Eulalie asked. She tiptoed back down the hallway and pressed her back to the wall.
Avery was saying, “I’m sorry, but I really need to get going.”
Hyacinth’s hand shook as she set her mug on the table. “Are you coming back for the funeral?”
Avery wrapped her long fingers around her mug. “I don’t know yet.”
“I don’t think you should.”
“It’s not your decision,” Avery said, her voice tight with anger.
“You shouldn’t have come in the first place,” Hyacinth added icily.
There might be a catfight yet.
Eulalie’s eyebrows wiggled. She was eating this up with a spoon.
Haywood was pacing, his face pinched with what looked like anger as he listened to the sparring.
Avery said, “I know you’re not implying I’m at fault for what . . . happened.”
Hyacinth leaned toward Avery. “You’re not so naive to believe it’s a coincidence.”
“Your anger is misplaced, Hyacinth.” Avery stood up. “If you recall, I am not the one who dragged myself into this.”
Hyacinth rose as well. “So says you.”
“I do say,” Avery snapped. “Haywood got a letter, same as you did.”
This was getting very interesting. And a letter? What letter?
Haywood threw his hands in the air and tipped his head backward as though looking to the heavens for some sort of assistance.
“Yes, and his was postmarked from Auburn ,” Hyacinth accused as she placed the straps of a designer purse on her shoulder. “Make no mistake that if you stick around, you’ll be talking to the sheriff soon enough.”
Hands on hips, Avery said, “Is that a threat?”
“Yes,” Hyacinth replied, sweet as pie. “Have a safe drive back home, y’hear.”
She strode away from the table, and Eulalie and I scattered. I ducked behind the reception desk, and Eulalie slipped into the kitchen.
Hyacinth didn’t look back as she walked out the front door, and I thought for sure she would slam the door, but instead she closed it softly behind her. In her wake was the strong scent of gin.
She’d been drinking. A lot, if the smell was any indication.
Fortunately, she’d left her snazzy red sports car at home and was walking. A good thing, too. The car was fairly new. Just a couple of months old. A gift from Haywood.
Eulalie emerged and I stood up. A
I assumed Hyacinth’s were as well. It was impossible to tell as she had on an even bigger and darker pair of sunglasses than I’d been wearing around today. Her shoulder-length blond hair was pulled back off her face with a wide velvet headband, and a cashmere sweater hugged her toned body. Except for the sunglasses, she would have looked like she was just having a normal lunch meeting.
I backed up and surreptitiously shooed Virgil to retreat as well. He was getting a mite too close. I wasn’t sure what his official cause of death had been exactly, but beyond every muscle in my body aching, I had trouble breathing properly when he was within a few feet of me. Collapsed lungs was my best guess.
“Have they said anything to each other?” I asked Eulalie.
“Not especially. Hyacinth came in asked for a moment of Avery’s time. They’ve been back there ever since. Do you think there’s going to be a catfight?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Are you hoping or preparing for the worst?”
“Hoping, of course!”
Laughing, I said, “Have you ever known Hyacinth Foster to raise her voice?”
“That holds no bearing, Carly Bell. Supposedly she killed her previous husbands, remember?”
All had died of natural causes.
A heart attack, a stroke, a blood clot.
Supposedly.
Either Hyacinth Foster had the worst luck of anyone on the planet, or she was a psychopath.
Bless her heart.
“ Shh, shh. Do you hear that?” Eulalie asked. She tiptoed back down the hallway and pressed her back to the wall.
Avery was saying, “I’m sorry, but I really need to get going.”
Hyacinth’s hand shook as she set her mug on the table. “Are you coming back for the funeral?”
Avery wrapped her long fingers around her mug. “I don’t know yet.”
“I don’t think you should.”
“It’s not your decision,” Avery said, her voice tight with anger.
“You shouldn’t have come in the first place,” Hyacinth added icily.
There might be a catfight yet.
Eulalie’s eyebrows wiggled. She was eating this up with a spoon.
Haywood was pacing, his face pinched with what looked like anger as he listened to the sparring.
Avery said, “I know you’re not implying I’m at fault for what . . . happened.”
Hyacinth leaned toward Avery. “You’re not so naive to believe it’s a coincidence.”
“Your anger is misplaced, Hyacinth.” Avery stood up. “If you recall, I am not the one who dragged myself into this.”
Hyacinth rose as well. “So says you.”
“I do say,” Avery snapped. “Haywood got a letter, same as you did.”
This was getting very interesting. And a letter? What letter?
Haywood threw his hands in the air and tipped his head backward as though looking to the heavens for some sort of assistance.
“Yes, and his was postmarked from Auburn ,” Hyacinth accused as she placed the straps of a designer purse on her shoulder. “Make no mistake that if you stick around, you’ll be talking to the sheriff soon enough.”
Hands on hips, Avery said, “Is that a threat?”
“Yes,” Hyacinth replied, sweet as pie. “Have a safe drive back home, y’hear.”
She strode away from the table, and Eulalie and I scattered. I ducked behind the reception desk, and Eulalie slipped into the kitchen.
Hyacinth didn’t look back as she walked out the front door, and I thought for sure she would slam the door, but instead she closed it softly behind her. In her wake was the strong scent of gin.
She’d been drinking. A lot, if the smell was any indication.
Fortunately, she’d left her snazzy red sports car at home and was walking. A good thing, too. The car was fairly new. Just a couple of months old. A gift from Haywood.
Eulalie emerged and I stood up. A
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