A Touch of the Grape: A Hemlock Falls Mystery (Hemlock Falls Mystery series) by Bishop Claudia

Author:Bishop, Claudia [Bishop, Claudia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-11-28T00:00:00+00:00

"Wow," Quill said, when they were in her battered Oldsmobile on their way back to the Inn. "You blew."

"Just call me Krakatoa." Meg stared out the open window. "You, on the other hand, started tap-dancing with all the righteous aplomb of Newt Gingrich. Did you lose your mind?!"

"I was just trying to salvage the situation for us. You were a little hard on them, Meggie."

"I was not. I wasn't hard enough!"

Quill drove quietly for a moment. Summerhill was only a few miles off Route 15, no more than twenty minutes from the Inn. The day was fine. Quill loved the light that came in spring: she always thought of it as slender, yet voluptuous, like the statue of Niobe in Paris. Perhaps she should start a series of Water Studies, and paint the pool beneath the Falls in each season. "You know," she said, after the angry red left Meg's cheeks, "there's a terrific imbalance in this family. You have too much of the in-your-face spirit, and I appear to have too little."

"Do you think it would have been right to stay there at that secret little grabbers meeting?"

"No, I don't. But I also think that Dookie would have pointed out, in his nonconfrontational, abstract, totally inoffensive way, that perhaps we should bring this to the attention of the rest of the town."

"Since nobody listens to Dookie, nobody would know it was his idea."

"But that's how it works, Meg. Haven't you noticed? Maybe the mayor would say, 'Might better get so-and-so's idea about that,' and then Esther might say she'd feel more comfortable if the whole Chamber were involved, and bingo! They'd end up doing the right thing. I suppose everyone's greedy in one way or another … What's that?" She braked hard.

Meg, used to her sister's erratic driving, hung on to the dashboard and said merely, "What's what?"

"That sign."

"It Says, CRAFT SHOW. BARGAINS GALORE. You see those signs all over this part of the country this time of year. What's so unusual … oh."

"Yeah. That's what's so unusual. It's us."

"Room 314, The Inn at Hemlock Falls. Wine tourists welcome. Oh, dear. The Crafty Ladies." There was a second sign on the turn from Route 15 to Hemlock Drive, and a third at the foot of the driveway to the Inn itself. "Lot of cars parked at the top of the hill," Meg observed. "My goodness, there's one of those Blue Bird Tour buses. Golden Age Golden Tours, it says."

Quill pulled the Olds into the garage. "You want to come up with me?"

"I think I'd better check on Bjarne in the kitchen. There may have been a lot more people for lunch than I'd expected. He's probably sunk in gloom. I should have hidden the boning knife; it's the sharpest I've got. Or he may be cheerful in the face of disaster. You never know with a Finn. But let me know if there are any real bargains."

"Ha."

Quill walked the long way round to the front door. The foyer was

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