with dread. What was he doing here?Had he discovered what I was up to? I guess there was only one way to find out.
I took a deep breath and carried in my grocery bag of cleaning supplies with a smile on my face as I entered Vicky. I hung my keys on the hook of the heavy mirrored hat stand in the foyer.
I loved the romance of the Victorian era, inspired by Queen Victoria herself. Dark wood with ornate carvings, end tables with marble tops, and various knickknacks were scattered about extravagantly. Not to mention the Grecian busts and statues that were strategically placed beneath large, dark, heavy-gilded frames that graced most of the walls. I’d never been more thankful that Vicky had come fully furnished, or more grateful that Granny was here to help keep her clean.
“Mitch, how nice to see you. What are you doing here?” I asked as he walked by several large vases filled with huge floral arrangements and plant stands with potted palms to join me.
He narrowed his eyes. “The question is what aren’t you doing here?”
“Just because I agreed not to interfere with your investigation this time doesn’t mean I have to stay home twenty-four-seven.” I bumped him with my hip. “I have a life, you know.”
“What about Granny and Fiona?” He took one of the grocery bags from me, and a whiff of his aftershave drifted to my nose.
God, he smelled good, I thought, but ignored thatfact and responded with, “They are the ones on house arrest, not me. Someone has to get the food and other supplies now that Granny can’t. Besides, they are wearing ankle bracelets, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed, all right. They haven’t stopped complaining about it since the moment I arrived.”
“Welcome to my world.” I walked across the Oriental rug–covered hardwood floors to enter the kitchen and set my supplies on the counter. “Speaking of the Dynamic Duo, where are they?”
“Who knows, but don’t speak too loudly. They might—”
“Too late,” I interrupted. “I hear them.”
Seconds later, they scurried around the corner, arguing as usual.
“You are ridiculous. Morty doesn’t want one of your cookies any more than I do. That’s why he dropped the dog biscuit at your feet. To tell you they are dog-nasty, not to have you make him dog biscuit cookies out of cat food,” Fiona snapped.
“Well, he certainly doesn’t want you to make him a cat-sized ankle bracelet like ours. He dropped that puppy collar at your feet to let you know how much he loves me and the stuffed puppy I bought him.”
“That’s even sillier. Who buys stuffed animals for a cat, especially a stuffed dog? You’ve done gone and lost your marbles, Gertie.”
“Better my marbles than your common sense,” Granny said, tying her apron over her sensible, navy blue cotton slacks and pale pink, short-sleeved cotton shirt. “The butler didn’t kill Bernadette. There is nobutler, you buffoon. In fact, I’m beginning to think there is no brain inside that head of yours.” She snatched the wooden spoon from the pocket of her apron and thrust it in Fiona’s direction.
“How do you know Trixie doesn’t have a butler?” Fiona shot back, swiping the spoon away from her face and then smoothing her hands down the front of her non-sensible, powder blue, summer silk jumpsuit.
“Have you seen her house? Not everyone has money like you.” Granny gave Fiona the once-over with a distasteful expression on her face.
“You should talk.” Fiona sputtered. “Just because you refuse to keep your money in the bank where it belongs doesn’t mean you don’t have lots of it in those silly shoe boxes and freezer bags. And the gardener in the garage with a pair of hedge clippers and a hearty appetite isn’t any more reasonable than my suggestion.”
“Says who? Tending a lawn burns a lot of calories. He might have worked up an appetite and taken our pie and cookies.”
“My pie I could see, but I doubt he had any interest in
I took a deep breath and carried in my grocery bag of cleaning supplies with a smile on my face as I entered Vicky. I hung my keys on the hook of the heavy mirrored hat stand in the foyer.
I loved the romance of the Victorian era, inspired by Queen Victoria herself. Dark wood with ornate carvings, end tables with marble tops, and various knickknacks were scattered about extravagantly. Not to mention the Grecian busts and statues that were strategically placed beneath large, dark, heavy-gilded frames that graced most of the walls. I’d never been more thankful that Vicky had come fully furnished, or more grateful that Granny was here to help keep her clean.
“Mitch, how nice to see you. What are you doing here?” I asked as he walked by several large vases filled with huge floral arrangements and plant stands with potted palms to join me.
He narrowed his eyes. “The question is what aren’t you doing here?”
“Just because I agreed not to interfere with your investigation this time doesn’t mean I have to stay home twenty-four-seven.” I bumped him with my hip. “I have a life, you know.”
“What about Granny and Fiona?” He took one of the grocery bags from me, and a whiff of his aftershave drifted to my nose.
God, he smelled good, I thought, but ignored thatfact and responded with, “They are the ones on house arrest, not me. Someone has to get the food and other supplies now that Granny can’t. Besides, they are wearing ankle bracelets, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed, all right. They haven’t stopped complaining about it since the moment I arrived.”
“Welcome to my world.” I walked across the Oriental rug–covered hardwood floors to enter the kitchen and set my supplies on the counter. “Speaking of the Dynamic Duo, where are they?”
“Who knows, but don’t speak too loudly. They might—”
“Too late,” I interrupted. “I hear them.”
Seconds later, they scurried around the corner, arguing as usual.
“You are ridiculous. Morty doesn’t want one of your cookies any more than I do. That’s why he dropped the dog biscuit at your feet. To tell you they are dog-nasty, not to have you make him dog biscuit cookies out of cat food,” Fiona snapped.
“Well, he certainly doesn’t want you to make him a cat-sized ankle bracelet like ours. He dropped that puppy collar at your feet to let you know how much he loves me and the stuffed puppy I bought him.”
“That’s even sillier. Who buys stuffed animals for a cat, especially a stuffed dog? You’ve done gone and lost your marbles, Gertie.”
“Better my marbles than your common sense,” Granny said, tying her apron over her sensible, navy blue cotton slacks and pale pink, short-sleeved cotton shirt. “The butler didn’t kill Bernadette. There is nobutler, you buffoon. In fact, I’m beginning to think there is no brain inside that head of yours.” She snatched the wooden spoon from the pocket of her apron and thrust it in Fiona’s direction.
“How do you know Trixie doesn’t have a butler?” Fiona shot back, swiping the spoon away from her face and then smoothing her hands down the front of her non-sensible, powder blue, summer silk jumpsuit.
“Have you seen her house? Not everyone has money like you.” Granny gave Fiona the once-over with a distasteful expression on her face.
“You should talk.” Fiona sputtered. “Just because you refuse to keep your money in the bank where it belongs doesn’t mean you don’t have lots of it in those silly shoe boxes and freezer bags. And the gardener in the garage with a pair of hedge clippers and a hearty appetite isn’t any more reasonable than my suggestion.”
“Says who? Tending a lawn burns a lot of calories. He might have worked up an appetite and taken our pie and cookies.”
“My pie I could see, but I doubt he had any interest in
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