The Battered Body by J. B. Stanley Page A

audience.
    “Those pictures made them look like thugs!” Lindy exclaimed. “This is silly. Boys always try to look all sorts of tough for their sports photos. The media is trying to influence public opinion against the Wilkins family!”
    “Welcome to the twenty-first century,” Bennett muttered darkly.
    The final video clip showed two of the Wilkins brothers pounding on the passenger window of Paulette’s rental car. The third had his arm around his mother as she shouted at her other sons to stop, Ruth’s normally radiant face eclipsed with anxiety.
    The members of the supper club watched with growing dismay as the largest brother abruptly shoved his handsome face, twisted by anger and humiliation, against the glass separating him from Paulette. As the footage had been captured from behind the car, it was impossible to see what the Diva of Dough’s reaction was to the young man’s wrath, but when he dragged his index finger slowly against the exposed skin of his throat, all of the supper club members gasped aloud.
    “Oh my,” Gillian breathed. “That young man needs to learn how to control his baser emotions.”
    “Too late for that.” Bennett reached for a second helping of pudding. “Those boys are already in a whole heap of trouble.”

“I have a surprise for you,” Milla told Paulette over breakfast. “Well, two surprises, actually. The first is this.” She handed her sister a tumbler of eggnog. “I made it myself. I know it’s your favorite durin’ the holidays.”
    James poured himself some coffee and watched Paulette as she raised the glass up to her face and sniffed. “You remembered the nutmeg.”
    “’Course I did.” Milla handed James the creamer. “I figured since you had a bit of a shock yesterday you could use a treat.”
    “Nonsense. I couldn’t have paid for better publicity.” Paulette took a delicate sip of eggnog and then took another, rather unladylike slurp, and replaced the tumbler on the table with a thud. “That story will be picked up on the national level by tonight. I’m quite pleased.” She looked at James appraisingly. “You’re out and about rather early for a weekend. Don’t librarians lounge around reading or organizing their spice cabinets during their free time?”
    Milla answered before James had the chance. “Our spices are already in alphabetical order, and James is gonna see a house that’s just come on the market. His Realtor lady called last night all excited.”
    “Foaming at the mouth, most likely,” James mumbled.
    “We are headin’ over to the Holiday Inn to visit with some special guests. And then we’re all goin’ out to lunch.”
    Paulette’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve barely recovered from our mid-week foray to that disgusting goat farm. Who would these special people be?”
    “Oh, just your children,” Milla replied casually.
    “Truly? Chase is here?”
    “ And Chloe.” Milla chided with a smile. “I thought it would be nice if we could all spend some time together before the weddin’.” Folding her napkin into a neat square, she hastily added, “Wheezie’s here too.”
    Her face instantly darkening, Paulette scraped back her chair and placed her hands on her hips. “You invited Louise! How could you do that to me?” She pulled her cell phone from her purse. “You should have known better. I’m calling Willow and telling her to book us on the next flight home. I did not agree to be a participant in one of your Hallmark moments.”
    Milla reached over and gently clasped her sister’s hand. “In case you didn’t notice—we’re getting old , my dear. Do you want to go to the end of your days without seeing your own sister again? She’s your flesh and blood, Patty. She looked out for you when we were little—keeping the Howell boys from picking on you, baking you special treats, sewing your dresses after you tore them climbing trees …”
    “And what?” Paulette was angry. “I ruined her life in return? Is that