it?”
“Well, yes,” I admitted. “I tried to assure Monica that we’d leave out all the gory details, but she hung up before I finished.”
Polly wagged her head in disgust. “Never figured Monica for a weak stomach.”
“Did you call Judy?” Diane asked. “She always likes to play.”
“What about Barb?” Tara said, trying to be helpful.
I set out a bowl of foil-wrapped dark chocolate truffles. “Barb’s packing for a cruise with a bunch of her sorority sisters. Judy has company from out of town.”
“What about Rosalie?”
Never-Say-No Nancy’s question just sort of hung there. Kind of like the ceiling fans at Lowe’s.
When I didn’t answer immediately, the women looked at me expectantly. “I did try Rosalie,” I confessed, pouring cashews into a bowl. “Earl claims she’s visiting grandkids in upstate New York.”
“I can’t remember the last time I saw Rosalie.” Connie Sue picked up a chocolate truffle, then replaced it unopened. “I used to run into her all the time at the golf course.”
Gloria helped herself to a handful of cashews, the ceiling light glinting off the collection of bangle bracelets she wore. “Seems like Rosalie was forever taking lessons from Brad.”
“Brad?” Polly’s ears practically perked up. “Who’s Brad?”
“Brad Murphy,” Pam explained. “He’s the golf pro at the club.”
“I know you ladies have the luxury of sleeping in, but I have to be at the preschool bright and early tomorrow.” Tara took a place at the head table and picked up the dice. “Shall we start?”
Nancy slid into an adjacent chair. “Sleeping in is one of the perks of retirement, my dear. We’ve earned the right.”
“Not me,” Connie Sue said. “I go to water aerobics at seven a.m.”
“I have yoga at eight,” Rita added.
“And I’m volunteering at the food bank,” Janine put in.
Good heavens! We’re an energetic group for a bunch of old fogies. What would the Babes take up next? Bungee jumping?
“The only time George and I set an alarm these days is to catch an early-morning flight when we leave on vacation,” Nancy confessed.
Amen! You go, sista!
It was time to get the ball, or in this case the dice, rolling. “We’ve all played a player short in the past,” I said. “Just remember, everyone at the table with only three players keeps their own score instead of combining scores with their partner. Piece of cake, right?”
Munchies and drinks in hand, we were ready to roll—quite literally, that is. Pam placed the tiara on her head, and we got down to business.
The first go-round we pretended to be serious bunco players. We rolled ones until Janine rang the bell and called bunco from the head table. I groaned. Diane and I had managed to accrue only six points between the two of us, which meant we switched partners, but stayed at the same table.
No sooner had the bell sounded for the next round than Rita, never one to beat about the bush, came straight to the point. “OK, Kate, put us out of our misery. Tell us what we’re really doing here tonight.”
“This better be good, sugar,” Connie Sue called from her seat. “Thacker didn’t buy into the notion of Tuesday being National Pot Roast Day.”
I tossed the dice before answering. Not a two in sight. “I was at the state park Saturday when the sheriff found remains .”
Polly looked at me quizzically. “Since when did you start camping?”
“I didn’t. I haven’t.”
The dice made the rounds. None of us seemed to be having much luck rolling twos.
“Kate, out with it.” It was Rita again. Of course. “How did you just happen to be at the state park when the remains were found? And don’t try to tell me it was coincidence.”
“I was loading groceries into my car at the Piggly Wiggly when I heard the sirens. I looked up and saw the sheriff’s cars racing past, so I decided to follow and find out what was going on.”
“And then what?” Pam was so busy listening to me
“Well, yes,” I admitted. “I tried to assure Monica that we’d leave out all the gory details, but she hung up before I finished.”
Polly wagged her head in disgust. “Never figured Monica for a weak stomach.”
“Did you call Judy?” Diane asked. “She always likes to play.”
“What about Barb?” Tara said, trying to be helpful.
I set out a bowl of foil-wrapped dark chocolate truffles. “Barb’s packing for a cruise with a bunch of her sorority sisters. Judy has company from out of town.”
“What about Rosalie?”
Never-Say-No Nancy’s question just sort of hung there. Kind of like the ceiling fans at Lowe’s.
When I didn’t answer immediately, the women looked at me expectantly. “I did try Rosalie,” I confessed, pouring cashews into a bowl. “Earl claims she’s visiting grandkids in upstate New York.”
“I can’t remember the last time I saw Rosalie.” Connie Sue picked up a chocolate truffle, then replaced it unopened. “I used to run into her all the time at the golf course.”
Gloria helped herself to a handful of cashews, the ceiling light glinting off the collection of bangle bracelets she wore. “Seems like Rosalie was forever taking lessons from Brad.”
“Brad?” Polly’s ears practically perked up. “Who’s Brad?”
“Brad Murphy,” Pam explained. “He’s the golf pro at the club.”
“I know you ladies have the luxury of sleeping in, but I have to be at the preschool bright and early tomorrow.” Tara took a place at the head table and picked up the dice. “Shall we start?”
Nancy slid into an adjacent chair. “Sleeping in is one of the perks of retirement, my dear. We’ve earned the right.”
“Not me,” Connie Sue said. “I go to water aerobics at seven a.m.”
“I have yoga at eight,” Rita added.
“And I’m volunteering at the food bank,” Janine put in.
Good heavens! We’re an energetic group for a bunch of old fogies. What would the Babes take up next? Bungee jumping?
“The only time George and I set an alarm these days is to catch an early-morning flight when we leave on vacation,” Nancy confessed.
Amen! You go, sista!
It was time to get the ball, or in this case the dice, rolling. “We’ve all played a player short in the past,” I said. “Just remember, everyone at the table with only three players keeps their own score instead of combining scores with their partner. Piece of cake, right?”
Munchies and drinks in hand, we were ready to roll—quite literally, that is. Pam placed the tiara on her head, and we got down to business.
The first go-round we pretended to be serious bunco players. We rolled ones until Janine rang the bell and called bunco from the head table. I groaned. Diane and I had managed to accrue only six points between the two of us, which meant we switched partners, but stayed at the same table.
No sooner had the bell sounded for the next round than Rita, never one to beat about the bush, came straight to the point. “OK, Kate, put us out of our misery. Tell us what we’re really doing here tonight.”
“This better be good, sugar,” Connie Sue called from her seat. “Thacker didn’t buy into the notion of Tuesday being National Pot Roast Day.”
I tossed the dice before answering. Not a two in sight. “I was at the state park Saturday when the sheriff found remains .”
Polly looked at me quizzically. “Since when did you start camping?”
“I didn’t. I haven’t.”
The dice made the rounds. None of us seemed to be having much luck rolling twos.
“Kate, out with it.” It was Rita again. Of course. “How did you just happen to be at the state park when the remains were found? And don’t try to tell me it was coincidence.”
“I was loading groceries into my car at the Piggly Wiggly when I heard the sirens. I looked up and saw the sheriff’s cars racing past, so I decided to follow and find out what was going on.”
“And then what?” Pam was so busy listening to me
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