Birthday Party Murder

Birthday Party Murder by Leslie Meier

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Authors: Leslie Meier
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want to go alone. What are you going to do, Pam?”
    â€œI’ll go to the cemetery with you. I’m kind of in the funeral groove here. Might as well go whole hog.” She paused at the door and took the minister’s hand. “Lovely service, Reverend.”
    Lucy was still wondering how Pam had managed to shift gears so smoothly when it was her turn to shake hands with the minister. A quick hand clasp and she was out in the sunlight, blinking.
    â€œI’ll see you guys later,” said Sue, hurrying down the sidewalk to her car, leaving Lucy and Pam standing together.
    â€œI want that at my funeral,” said Pam. “I want to be carried out on the shoulders of six stalwart young men. Preferably in loincloths.”
    Lucy punched her in the arm. “You’re awful.”
    Pam shrugged. “Come on. What do you want at your funeral?”
    â€œDoesn’t matter. I’m not going to die,” said Lucy.
    Â 
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    The mournful sound of taps was still ringing in Lucy’s ears as she and Pam drove up to Rachel and Bob’s for the reception. As soon as they entered the house, however, she was caught up in the overfriendly exuberance that always seems to follow a burial.
    â€œThanks for coming,” said Bob, clasping her hand. “There’s food in the dining room and the bar’s out in the sunroom.”
    â€œLooks like a heck of a party,” observed Pam, approvingly. “There’s a full bar. Want to have martinis?”
    Lucy’s eyes widened. “It’s eleven o’clock in the morning.”
    â€œTrust me, Lucy. You look like you need a little something stronger than Poland Spring. How about some wine to go with those pigs-in-blankets?”
    â€œLet’s call it an early lunch,” said Lucy, accepting a glass of wine from a waiter who was passing a tray. “Did you say pigs-in-blankets?”
    â€œAnd scallops wrapped in bacon. Come on, before they’re all gone.”
    After filling their plates, Lucy and Pam found a pair of chairs in a corner of the sunroom and sat down. Pam’s beret had disappeared and her hair blazed in the sunlight.
    â€œDo you color your hair?” The words had flown from Lucy’s mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
    Pam shrugged. “Of course I color my hair. Doesn’t everybody ?”
    â€œI just did mine. Do you think it looks okay?”
    â€œI hadn’t actually noticed. Next time, why don’t you try something a little brighter?”
    â€œBrighter?”
    â€œSure. If you’re coloring it anyway, you might as well get some bang for your buck.”
    Lucy was thinking about this when Rachel joined them, pulling up a hassock and perching on it.
    â€œI think I can take a break for a few minutes,” she said. “Things seem to be going pretty well.”
    â€œIt’s a great party,” said Pam. “But Lucy wouldn’t let me have a martini.”
    â€œIsn’t it kind of early for a martini?” asked Rachel.
    â€œIt’s never too early for a martini,” said Pam, fishing out the olive with her fingers and popping it in her mouth.
    â€œMartinis give me a headache,” confessed Lucy. “Hey, while I’ve got you, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Do you know why Sherman wanted to see Miss T?”
    â€œSome sort of legal business, I think,” said Rachel. “Is it important?”
    â€œI don’t know,” admitted Lucy. “But I think it was something personal.” She took a sip of wine. “I don’t know. The more I find out about this guy, the less I seem to know. Was he adopted, by any chance?”
    â€œYeah, he was. How’d you know?”
    â€œHe had brown eyes; his parents had blue eyes.”
    â€œI never noticed. But he was adopted as a baby by an older couple. They had always wanted a child but couldn’t have one of their

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