Polly Dent Loses Grip (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) by Moore S. Dionne

Author:Moore, S. Dionne [Moore, S. Dionne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-04-04T05:00:00+00:00

Hardy strutted around in his dark blue trousers and red tie like a banty rooster preparing for dawn. When Matilda appeared in her Sunday best red dress, Hardy bounced up to her telling her how pretty she was and how she looked so good in red. It’s a color I never touch. Makes me feel like a tomato. But red accents I can do, which is why my purple dress had crimson trim. Always did like the two colors together, and that’s before the society of red hat lovers started up. Been thinking about starting a chapter in Maple Gap.

After Hardy sweetalked his mother for a bit, he started in on me. “And you’re looking mighty cute yourself, Mrs. Barnhart.”

“Well,” Matlida piped up. “When you two are done cooing at each other, we need to get moving. I’m hungry.”

Hardy offered his arm to his momma. “You needs to remember to watch what you’re eating. LaTisha and I don’t need a repeat of the day your sugar spiked.”

Matilda took Hardy’s arm, her eyes sparkled up at her only child. “You’re a good boy, Hardy, watchin’ after me like you do.”

Hardy flashed his tooth that showed every bit of his pride at her words.

Matilda dragged him along as she hustled toward the door. “If we don’t stop dripping all this sweetness, my blood sugar’s gonna go up for sure.”

I followed the two down to the cafeteria hauling Matilda’s cane since I knew she’d be wanting it later. She enjoys Hardy squiring her around, but she’s also one to trot off on her own when she has a mind.

The dining room appeared to be about half full when we entered. Otis Payne mingling, greeting residents he probably never talked to any other time. I noticed right off that Mrs. Payne sat off to the side and looked ill-at-ease as she sipped from her water glass. Reminded me of our son, Bryton. Never much for people, you could always find him hunkered down behind a computer that never required him to open his mouth. His wife Fredlynn made up for his quiet side. Bryton never attended a company party without Fredlynn to help keep conversation going.

Momma chose a table in the far corner. Not a bad choice, really, since I could see the entire room at a glance, but my goal was to talk to Mrs. Payne. I got Hardy’s attention as he settled Matilda into her chair and pointed my eyes in the direction I was headed. Hardy nodded at me.

I greeted a few of the residents who’d sung with Hardy and I this afternoon, my eyes and ears cued for anything remotely resembling a clue, verbal or otherwise. The next table over, I stopped to chat with the two ladies who’d made the comment about Gertrude hoarding Thomas’s affection and attention and settled down to some serious sleuthing. I started off by greeting the one I knew was Sally.

“Sure had a good time singing with you gals this afternoon.”

The black haired lady held out a frail hand to me.

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