Bite the Biscuit (A Barkery & Biscuits Mystery) by Linda O. Johnston

Knobcone Heights Resort shirt he wore that day was light brown, another color that looked good on my handsome younger brother. But at the moment I wasn’t thrilled about his promoting this place, even though he worked here. “I saw a whole kettle of the vultures in charge of this place stomping in and then out of here,” he finished.
    I looked sideways at him. “Kettle?” Was he suggesting stewing them for dinner?
    “Well, sure.” He looked proud of himself. “That’s a group of vultures while they’re flying. They’re referred to as a committee when they’re just roosting in trees. I think there are more terms for that, too. But I learn a lot here while staffing the reception desk—and even more when I’m out and about giving hiking tours and all.”
    “A bit pretentious, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes until they met Reed’s. He was apparently trying to keep himself from laughing aloud.
    “You got the vulture part right anyway,” Reed agreed. I nodded. But Reed’s expression grew more serious. “I had the impression they were ganging up on your sister—all except Walt. Maybe. But if that—what? committee?—groups together to protect one of their own who really killed Myra, it might be hard to prove what’s true.”
    The server returned then. I’d barely noticed the attractive young lady before except to note her dark hair and friendly demeanor. But now she aimed a huge smile at Neal. “Can I bring you something?” The words weren’t exactly suggestive, but her teasing tone suggested they knew each other and perhaps had some kind of flirtation going.
    Neal confirmed this by saying, “You can bring me anything you want, Gwen,” and winking at her. “But for now, I’d like a cup of coffee.”
    “Cream?” I’d never heard that word said so suggestively before, and I blinked as I looked at Neal to get his reaction.
    “Oh yes,” was all he said.
    “Anything else I can get for you?” Her tone was normal now, and her gaze turned away from Neal toward Reed, then me.
    “We’re fine,” I said. But when she left for Neal’s coffee I asked him, “What’s going on between you two?”
    “Not really anything … yet,” he said. “We’re just having fun.”
    “I bet.” Reed’s tone was amused.
    “But I think she’d be a good resource for asking about … well, you know,” Neal continued. “I hear a lot of things at the front desk, but because Myra was our boss it wasn’t considered a smart thing to gossip about her, at least not much. But I know that some of the wait staff here not only take care of the Ethmans when they eat at the restaurant but also bring food orders to the resort’s offices for them. Even though they’ve retired from the resort, they still pretty much own it and act like they’re in charge while they’re around—maybe especially now since their chosen manager Myra is gone. Anyway, let’s talk to Gwen.”
    “Fine.” I leaned toward my brother. Quietly, I asked, “Is the gossip ban still on now? I’d think that, under the circumstances, everyone would be talking about Myra and what happened … and maybe even speculating how it happened.”
    “They are, to some extent.” Neal also kept his voice low, and Reed leaned over the table so he could hear. “Today everyone’s acting like they’re in shock, and not many of us are even hinting that we won’t miss the b—er, witch.”
    “She wielded a heavy broomstick?” I speculated, my half-grin wry.
    “I’ll say.”
    Gwen returned then and put a beige pottery mug in front of Neal. She poured coffee into it from a metal pitcher and set a small container of cream on the table. She then looked at him. “Just let me know if you’d like anything else.” She was still flirting, but I was glad to see that the look Neal leveled on her was serious.
    “Actually, there is something.” He crooked his finger to draw her closer. She frowned a little, as if she realized that this would go beyond their friendly