Black and Blueberry Die (A Fresh-Baked Mystery Book 11) by Livia J. Washburn

something like that? It’s suspicious.”
    “Maybe somebody there is suspicious of you .”
    “Because I came in asking questions and brought up Roxanne?” Phyllis nodded again, slowly, as she frowned in thought. “I suppose that’s possible. But only if the someone you’re talking about has something to hide. It could only be Aurora or Pauline. I didn’t talk to anyone else.”
    “So you’re gonna keep the appointment?”
    “Of course.”
    “Maybe I better come with you,” Sam said. “There was a good place to sit, you said, and I could take a book with me. Fellas must wait there for their ladies from time to time.”
    Phyllis smiled and said, “Am I your lady, Sam?”
    “Reckon you would’ve known that by now.”
    “I do,” Phyllis said, then went on, “But I don’t think anything’s going to happen to me in a beauty salon with a lot of other people around.”
    “Not likely, but you never know. I sure don’t mind taggin’ along. Anyway, it gives me an excuse to sit and read for a while.”
    “You’re retired. You can sit and read any time you want to.”
    “Yeah, but after leadin’ such a busy life for so long, sometimes it’s hard to slow down. I feel guilty when I’m not up doin’ something.”
    “I know the feeling,” Phyllis said. “Of course, you can come along. I’m always happy to have your company. Also, it’ll give you a chance to talk to Aurora. Maybe you’ll find out more than I could. She might see you as the kindly old grandfather type. Only her grandfather was a hippy.”
    Sam grinned, held up his right hand with the first two fingers spread in a peace sign and said, “Far out, dude.”
    ••●••
    When they got back to the house, they found Carolyn in the kitchen with several mixing bowls spread out on the counter and a perplexed look on her face.
    “I’m doing something wrong,” she said, “but I can’t figure out what.”
    “I’d be glad to help,” Phyllis said as she started toward the counter and tried to see what was in the bowls.
    Carolyn moved to block her view. “No, that’s all right,” she said quickly. “This is for that recipe I’m going to enter in the magazine contest, and even though we decided that it would be all right for me to send it in, I think it’ll still look better if there’s no input from you, Phyllis. No offense.”
    “None taken,” Phyllis said, although in truth she was a little surprised by Carolyn’s attitude. It was her right to do as she saw fit, though. “Do I get to sample the result when you’re done?”
    “I don’t know.” Carolyn frowned. “Sam’s here. He’s always a good taste tester.”
    “This is for a pie contest, right?” Sam asked. “I’m your huckleberry!”
    Both women looked at him. Carolyn said, “What?”
    “It’s a line from a movie. Tombstone. When Doc Holliday’s gettin’ ready to have a gunfight with somebody...Well, never mind. I’ll be happy to sample anything you come up with, Carolyn, that’s all I’m sayin’.”
    “It’s not huckleberry pie,” Carolyn said. “Although...” She shook her head. “No, never mind.”
    “Berry,” Phyllis said, also looking as if thoughts had started to race through her head.
    Sam held up his hands, palms out, and said as he angled toward the hall, “I’m gonna leave you ladies to it, whatever it is.”
    He went on toward the living room. Knowing that Carolyn didn’t want to talk about her recipe or the magazine contest, Phyllis changed the subject by saying, “The girl at the beauty salon where Roxanne worked called a little while ago. They had a cancellation, and I’m going in to get my hair done tomorrow morning.”
    “That soon?”
    “Sam and I thought it seemed a little fishy, too,” Phyllis said. “But on the other hand, it’s a good chance to try to find out more.”
    Carolyn cocked her head to the side and said, “There’s nothing wrong with your hair the way it is now. What are you going to have them do?”
    “I