Murder Unmentionable by Meg London

documents, reports and interviews every case accumulates, I can picture the scene and the people involved myself.”
    Arabella bustled in with a pitcher and several glasses on a tray.
    “I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Francis took a sip of tea. He swallowed and licked his lips. “I think this must be the best glass of sweet tea I’ve ever tasted.”
    Arabella turned even pinker, and her hands fluttered like butterflies around her face. “Thank you.”
    Francis drained his glass and put it down on the counter. “I take it you’re the one who found the body?”
    Arabella nodded.
    “I’m downright sorry that you had to go through that.”
    Arabella gave a small smile.
    “This was your young man, I understand?” He turned toward Emma.
    “We had been dating, but it was over.” Emma explained.
    Francis nodded. “Do you know of anyone who might have had a grudge against him? Someone who maybe followed him down here?”
    Emma was already shaking her head. “No, not really.”
    Francis was thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I just came by to get the lay of the land so to speak, and to assure you ladies that we will do our best to track down all the facts and put the person who did this behind bars.”
    “We appreciate that.” Arabella held the pitcher over Francis’s glass questioningly.
    He shook his head. “I’ve got an appointment at the Paris police station in…” He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes. Much as I’d love to stay and enjoy your hospitality some more, I’d better be going.”
    “Well,” Arabella said, as she closed the door behind Francis, “what an attractive man!”
    “Aunt Arabella!”
    “What?” Arabella looked at her niece with eyebrows raised.
    “What about Les?”
    “What about Les?” Arabella shot back.
    EMMA frowned at her computer. She was seated on a stool at the counter with a spreadsheet open on her laptop. Bookkeeping was not her favorite chore, but it was a necessity when running a business. Numbers didn’t come as naturally to her as did colors and fabrics and all things visual. She was glad she’d taken some courses in the fundamentals ofbookkeeping and accounting. Arabella’s accounting methods were just this side of an abacus. Emma was transferring everything to the computer and had set the store up for online banking and online accounts with their suppliers.
    The door to Sweet Nothings eased open, and Brian stepped in.
    All of Emma’s senses went into overdrive as they always did when she was around Brian. She put her head down so he couldn’t see the color she knew had flooded her face.
    “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” His dark brows lowered over his eyes.
    Emma shook her head and closed the lid of her computer. “Just some bookkeeping,” she wrinkled her nose. “Not my favorite task.”
    “I know what you mean.”
    Arabella came out of the stockroom at the sound of their voices. “Any news? Weren’t you going to check with that fellow who works for you about that card game?’
    “I did.” Brian frowned in disappointment. “Unfortunately, Bobby was sick that night and skipped the game. He’s going to ask around though, and see if anyone else knows whether Mulligan showed up or not.”
    Emma suppressed a quiver of frustration. It seemed as if every step they took forward led to a dead end. Why did Bobby have to get sick this one time? They had to get this wrapped up before Sweet Nothings’s grand opening. They just had to!
    Pierre, who had been napping in his canopied toile bed, suddenly sat bolt upright. He twitched his white ear, then his black one, then twirled them both as if they were antennae attempting to pick up sound. He gave a low growl deep in his throat that slowly escalated to a full-fledged bark.
    “What is it, boy?” Emma went to pat the top of Pierre’s head, but he jerked away as if to say “This is serious.” Emmaglanced at Arabella. “Maybe Bertha is going past out-side?”
    Arabella shook her head. “If