Checked Out for Murder by Allison Brook

Author:Allison Brook
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

Chapter Nineteen

“Tom! What are you doing here?” my mother asked as she joined Dylan, Tom, and me in the hall.

“I need to talk to you, Brianna.”

“It’s late, and you should leave.”

Tom strode past us and glanced at my father, still sitting at the kitchen table. “It doesn’t look like you’re about to go to sleep anytime soon. In fact, I’d say you’re having a party.”

“Not a party exactly.” My father came to stand with us. “Just some old friends getting together.”

Old friends, my foot. I couldn’t remember if Tom and my father had ever actually met, so I made the introductions as any good hostess would. “Tom, this is my dad, Jim Singleton. He’s spending a few days here in Clover Ridge. Dad, Tom Farrell.”

“A pleasure,” Jim said.

Tom ignored my father’s outstretched hand and glared at my mother. “So, Brianna, we run into a few problems and you call on your ex for comfort and consolation?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I didn’t invite Jim to come here. And please stop calling me Brianna. My name is Linda.”

Already sloshed to the gills, Tom was totally incapable of dealing with the scene he’d encountered when he’d entered my cottage. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Feeling sorry for him, I took his arm and escorted him into the kitchen. “Why don’t you sit down and have something to eat?”

He nodded. “Thanks, Carrie. I never had dinner.”

I viewed the contents of what remained in my refrigerator and brought containers of chicken salad and tuna salad and more bread to the table. I grabbed the half-empty bottle of wine and slipped it into the pantry. Wine was the last thing Tom needed.

My father and Dylan returned to their places at the table and resumed eating. My mother hovered in the hallway. I beckoned to her and pointed to my seat. She made a face but sat down.

Silence reigned as I put on a large pot of coffee. I had a feeling the evening was far from over.

“I understand you’re here to make a movie,” my father said to Tom.

Tom nodded. He swallowed what he was chewing, then said, “We were making great progress; then one of the actors was murdered.”

“How terrible,” my father said.

“Tom’s costar and former fiancée,” my mother said.

“Nothing like keeping it in the family,” my father said.

Was that supposed to be humorous? I glared at him, but Jim didn’t notice. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Having made an effort to be social, he returned to his conversation with Dylan, for which I was grateful, as it filled the silence looming between my mother and Tom.

When the coffee was ready, I poured everyone a mug, then said, “Tom, I know you came here to speak to my mother. You can go into the den and talk to her there.”

My mother shot me a look of reproach. “Carrie, it would have been appropriate to ask me if I want to talk to Tom.”

“Sorry, but I’m caught in the middle, seeing you’re both here in my house.

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