long, but he’d already
ordered a few bottles from me.”
“I liked Peter, too,” I admitted. “But . . .”
They were staring at me. Every single one of them.
And all I could think about was the way we’d found Peter the night before. That, and
how as a newcomer in the close-knit community, I understood something about how he
must have felt when he came here to start a new business.
“Where do we begin?” I asked.
Leave it to Chandra to have the answer. She popped off the stool and threw an arm
into the air. “We’ll use our little gray cells,” she announced in an accent that could
only have come straight out of the movie she’d watched before she read the book. “Just
like that Hercules guy!”
8
W as I worried about Chandra and her crazy idea that we could be detectives?
You bet’cha!
Which is precisely why I made sure to keep her busy and as far away from my guests
as possible. No easy thing considering we were getting to the point of being wedged
in like kippers in a tin.
Thank goodness it is a big house.
When I saw Ted go into the parlor to turn on the TV, I made sure to send Chandra up
to Suite #6 to help Meg and the kids get settled, and when she did that a little too
quickly and barreled down the stairs with a sort of gleam in her eye that I remembered
Albert Finney having when he played Poirot in the movie version of
Orient Express
, I intercepted her and assigned her to Luella’s sloppy joe team.
Luella was also in charge of the french fries, and in no way was I worried about her.
Luella (poor delusional thing) thought the idea of us working together to figure out
what happened to Peter was a good one. That meant she wouldn’t go rushing headlong
into anything silly. Or solo. And Kate? As much as I hated to admit it, it was admirable
that Kate wanted to see justice done in Peter’s name. Surprise, surprise, the woman
had a heart. But I knew she also had a brain. She’d never try to corner my guests
to interrogate them. Not in an obvious way, at least. And never in a phony Belgian
accent.
By lunchtime when we set the table, we had those sloppy joes ready along with a nice
variety of pickles that Kate had arranged artistically on one of my Depression-era
glass platters, Luella’s kick-ass french fries (she was a wizard with seasoned salt),
and a batch of chocolate and oatmeal no-bake cookies Meg had pulled out of her freezer
and brought along as a way of thanking me for my hospitality.
It was the perfect lunch for a snowy day.
Now if only Chandra didn’t open her mouth and say something she shouldn’t to someone
she shouldn’t say it to.
The thought burned in my brain as I directed Ted and Mariah to the buffet. Amanda,
it should be noted, was still feeling too punky to come down, so while Luella made
up a plate for her, I informed my guests that the other ladies and I would leave them
in peace and take our lunches into the kitchen.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Of course this was Mariah, ever gracious and acting like the
lady of the manor even in my house. The dining room table seats twelve, and she waved
at all the empty chairs, expertly showing off the nails that had been mauve at breakfast
and were now candy apple red. “It makes no sense at all for you to be crammed in the
kitchen when we’ve got so much room here. Besides, I’m just dying to hear more about
each of you, and about the island.”
It was exactly what I had been dreading, and exactly what Chandra had been waiting
for. I hoped the look I shot her reminded her to be careful and to take it easy. When
her eyes flashed like the island lighthouse, I knew I was in trouble. Too bad I’d
just taken a bite of sloppy joe, otherwise I might have been able to say something
before she scraped her chair closer to the table and pinned first Ted then Mariah
with what I think was supposed to be a clever, detective-like look that came off more
like
ordered a few bottles from me.”
“I liked Peter, too,” I admitted. “But . . .”
They were staring at me. Every single one of them.
And all I could think about was the way we’d found Peter the night before. That, and
how as a newcomer in the close-knit community, I understood something about how he
must have felt when he came here to start a new business.
“Where do we begin?” I asked.
Leave it to Chandra to have the answer. She popped off the stool and threw an arm
into the air. “We’ll use our little gray cells,” she announced in an accent that could
only have come straight out of the movie she’d watched before she read the book. “Just
like that Hercules guy!”
8
W as I worried about Chandra and her crazy idea that we could be detectives?
You bet’cha!
Which is precisely why I made sure to keep her busy and as far away from my guests
as possible. No easy thing considering we were getting to the point of being wedged
in like kippers in a tin.
Thank goodness it is a big house.
When I saw Ted go into the parlor to turn on the TV, I made sure to send Chandra up
to Suite #6 to help Meg and the kids get settled, and when she did that a little too
quickly and barreled down the stairs with a sort of gleam in her eye that I remembered
Albert Finney having when he played Poirot in the movie version of
Orient Express
, I intercepted her and assigned her to Luella’s sloppy joe team.
Luella was also in charge of the french fries, and in no way was I worried about her.
Luella (poor delusional thing) thought the idea of us working together to figure out
what happened to Peter was a good one. That meant she wouldn’t go rushing headlong
into anything silly. Or solo. And Kate? As much as I hated to admit it, it was admirable
that Kate wanted to see justice done in Peter’s name. Surprise, surprise, the woman
had a heart. But I knew she also had a brain. She’d never try to corner my guests
to interrogate them. Not in an obvious way, at least. And never in a phony Belgian
accent.
By lunchtime when we set the table, we had those sloppy joes ready along with a nice
variety of pickles that Kate had arranged artistically on one of my Depression-era
glass platters, Luella’s kick-ass french fries (she was a wizard with seasoned salt),
and a batch of chocolate and oatmeal no-bake cookies Meg had pulled out of her freezer
and brought along as a way of thanking me for my hospitality.
It was the perfect lunch for a snowy day.
Now if only Chandra didn’t open her mouth and say something she shouldn’t to someone
she shouldn’t say it to.
The thought burned in my brain as I directed Ted and Mariah to the buffet. Amanda,
it should be noted, was still feeling too punky to come down, so while Luella made
up a plate for her, I informed my guests that the other ladies and I would leave them
in peace and take our lunches into the kitchen.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Of course this was Mariah, ever gracious and acting like the
lady of the manor even in my house. The dining room table seats twelve, and she waved
at all the empty chairs, expertly showing off the nails that had been mauve at breakfast
and were now candy apple red. “It makes no sense at all for you to be crammed in the
kitchen when we’ve got so much room here. Besides, I’m just dying to hear more about
each of you, and about the island.”
It was exactly what I had been dreading, and exactly what Chandra had been waiting
for. I hoped the look I shot her reminded her to be careful and to take it easy. When
her eyes flashed like the island lighthouse, I knew I was in trouble. Too bad I’d
just taken a bite of sloppy joe, otherwise I might have been able to say something
before she scraped her chair closer to the table and pinned first Ted then Mariah
with what I think was supposed to be a clever, detective-like look that came off more
like
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