Deadly Expressions by Laura Bradford

Author:Laura Bradford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: woman sleuth, amateur sleuth, cozy mystery, reporter, elizabeth lynn casey
Publisher: Beyond the Page Publishing

Chapter Fifteen

6:30 p.m.

If she couldn’t fit into her wedding dress in six months, she’d know why. Dinner at Aunt Betty’s was like Thanksgiving and Christmas all rolled into one. There was the meat—which, in this case, was roast beef—the various vegetable choices, potatoes, gravy, salads, stuffing, and rolls.

Any hope of working off some calories by shuttling dirty dishes back and forth from the dining room to the kitchen was squelched by a seventy-two-year-old woman wielding a dish towel like it was a sword and repeating the phrase No dishes until after dessert. And in case she considered disobeying, she was shot the raised eyebrow don’t-defy-me look that she remembered from her own grandmother.

Sheesh, the elderly could be ornery.

“It’s been like this since I was a kid,” Mitch whispered in between glances at the kitchen doorway. “You eat and eat until you don’t think you can eat again for another ten years. Then she brings out dessert.”

“And you still eat it?” she whispered back.

“When she brings out the chocolate cream pie? Are you kidding me? Of course I eat it. What’s another couple pounds in the grand scheme of things, you know?”

“My waistline, that’s wha— Oh, wow, that looks great.” Elise sat up in her chair, her eyes widening at the site of the Boston crème pie in Aunt Betty’s right hand. She glanced across the table at Mitch and shrugged a surrender.

“Mitch told me you like Boston crème pie so I made one just for you.” The woman set the pie plate on the table and disappeared into the kitchen again, returning seconds later with a chocolate crème pie. “And this one is for my Mitchell.”

She laughed at Mitch’s red face. “Mitchell, would you like to try a piece of Boston crème pie, too?”

His lips twitched despite his formal reply. “Why, yes, I would, Ms. Jenkins.”

Aunt Betty reclaimed her seat, smacking at Elise’s knife-holding hand. “I’ll cut the pieces. You just relax. You two work so hard all week, the least I can do is make you a nice dinner and keep good food on your plates.”

Mitch picked up his butter knife and shook it in Elise’s direction. “You better listen, young lady, or that hand smack will be the least of your worries.”

The pies were delicious, clearing away any thoughts of full stomachs and too-tight wedding dresses. The conversation was every bit as good, running the gamut from the teenagers in Mitch’s law enforcement camp and Elise’s news articles to Aunt Betty’s book club.

“I read about that poor woman at the community college,” Aunt Betty said before taking a slow sip of her tea. “That was pretty much the topic of our ladies’ group meeting on Friday. Seems so sad that two computers could be worth a person’s life.”

Elise took the last bite of pie into her mouth and met Mitch’s eye across the table. It haunted her to know that he felt even the slightest bit responsible for Hannah Daltry’s death.

The jovial set to Mitch’s mouth changed as he reached toward the pie plate and sheepishly cut a second piece of his favorite.

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