Fatal Deduction by Gayle Roper Page A

cookies—and finished off with two boxes of Tastykakes, one Butterscotch Krimpets, the other chocolate cupcakes. They were Tori’s contribution, which she rushed out to buy when she realized I wasn’t making a second dish for her. Chloe brought a giant bag of potato chips and a dish of brownies. She brought the chips because she and Jenna had eaten half the brownies as they beautified themselves earlier in the day.
    “I can’t take just this,” she’d cried as she looked in dismay at the half-empty platter she’d arranged the brownies on.
    “Is there another box of mix? Make more.” I pulled the baked beans out of the oven.
    “There isn’t time!”
    “Then put them on a smaller plate,” I suggested. “It’ll look like more.”
    She grabbed a luncheon plate.
    “Not the Wedgwood!”
    She gave me a look. “Easy, Mom.” She put the Wedgwood back in the cupboard.
    “There are paper plates over there.” I pointed to a cabinet.
    “Paper?” Her voice dripped disdain.
    Three days and already she was disparaging paper plates? “Paper,” I said firmly.
    She complied. “Still too little.” She brightened. “I know!” She grabbed a bag of vinegar-and-salt chips.
    So we sallied forth, food in hand, hair gilded and curled. As soon as Chloe put her food down, she ran to find Jenna. I didn’t blameher. The lane was crawling with adults she’d never seen before. I was a bit overwhelmed myself.
    I took a plate and began helping myself to the glorious bounty. I wanted some of everything, so I took little dibs and dabs, filling my plate to the point I feared its collapse.
    As I turned away from the feast, I saw Drew Canfield emerge from his home, dish in hand, Jenna and Chloe on his heels. In his shorts and polo shirt, he looked rugged and very unscholarly. I smiled. He didn’t look very much like a cook either, and I couldn’t help wondering what he’d made. Jenna carried a nine-by-thirteen cake pan.
    “You’re drooling, Elizabeth.”
    I spun at Tori’s mocking words.
    “Though he is certainly handsome. A hunk.”
    I shrugged. Never would I admit to my sister that I felt some sort of connection with him after our early morning experience with murder. “I’m not drooling, and the world is full of handsome men.”
    “True, true.” She looked at me with that disdainful smile that made me squirm every time I saw it. It always preceded a barb.
    “But sadly none of them are yours.” She shook her head in mock sorrow. “That’s what comes of trying to pretend you’re a virgin all these years.”
    I tried not to flinch. The last thing I wanted was to let Tori see how her taunts hurt. “Don’t, Tori. Let’s just enjoy the night without any pettiness, okay?”
    “Why, honey, I wouldn’t want to hurt you for the world, bless your heart.”
    Like I didn’t know “bless your heart” was a euphemism for “don’t believe a word I’ve just said.”
    She sauntered away, hips swaying, to talk with Tim and Mark.She was gorgeous in red cropped pants, her toenails, visible in her stiletto sandals, a matching red. Her white tight tee was cropped so that the gem in her bellybutton—a real diamond or a cubic zirconium? And wouldn’t the loan shark like to know?—winked when it caught the setting sun.
    I had on navy slacks and a red tee neatly tucked in, a white belt, and white flat sandals, my nod to the patriotic nature of our party.
    Bling and bland. That was the Keating twins. Well, at least my hair looked good tonight. Funny, I hadn’t thought it looked bad until Tori showed up all highlighted and lovely. I sighed and went to get something to drink from the coolers filled with ice and beverages.
    I straightened with a Coke in my hand and found myself face to face with Drew. I gestured toward the coolers. “Quite a selection.”
    He glanced at the coolers but made no move to get a beverage.
    I smiled. If he didn’t want something to drink, maybe he had sought me out. Now there was a lovely thought. And