Still Life in Brunswick Stew by Larissa Reinhart

Author:Larissa Reinhart [Reinhart, Larissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Mystery, humor, cozy, Humour, Romance, cozy mystery, southern mystery, humorous mystery, mystery series
ISBN: 9781938383403
Goodreads: 17572295
Publisher: Henery Press
Published: 2013-05-16T23:00:00+00:00

“Holy sh—” I broke off one of my favorite expletives as Pearl walked into the living room, one hand on her hip and the other pointing a wooden spoon at my face.

“Hello?” asked Dot. “Did you hear me say Lewis Maynard is dead?”

“I’m on the phone, Miss Pearl.” I turned my back on the spoon and stepped deeper into the hallway. “I heard you, Dot. Give me the details.”

A hand snatched my phone and a spoon rapped the side of my head.

“Ow!” I yelled, rubbing my head. “Cut it out.”

“It’s time y’all started learning some manners,” said Pearl, brandishing the wooden spoon.

“From somebody who lets goats run loose in the yard? Give me my phone.”

She slapped it into my palm. “You better eat. And don’t try that texting stuff.”

“I can’t afford texting.” Pearl’s antics had ended my phone connection. Realizing I would have to learn more about Lewis’s suspicious death later, I stalked into the sunny kitchen and plopped into a rattan chair at the kitchen table. Before me set a plate laden with the bounty of Pearl’s talents. I inhaled the southern goodness and took a tentative bite. She placed a glass of tea on the table.

“Casey, come in here will you?” I still needed her advice on the whole Todd predicament. She probably had a colorful opinion about Speedos that’d be worth hearing anyway.

Pearl took my holler as an invitation for a lunch chat and eased into a chair across from me. She placed a glass of tea before her and crossed her legs. I looked up with a questioning glance, which she ignored.

Casey plodded in and threw herself into the chair next to me. She pursed her lips and narrowed her brown eyes at Pearl.

“Just a minute.” I held my hand up to stem the flow of Casey’s ugly remarks. Todd’s Speedo had led me down a new current of thought. A couple new currents, actually, but only one I could speak of. “Pearl, are you still going to Mr. Max’s house for bingo?”

“I was, but he shut down for a few days. Something about his air conditioner.”

“Did you ever see a tall, blond guy there?” I glanced at Casey.

She drew her brows together, studying me.

“Real good looking. Likes to tap his hands all over the place?”

“Todd the drummer?” Pearl slapped the table. “I got a handful of that sweetness just the other day.”

“Excuse me?”

“He sometimes calls the numbers and hands out the bingo cards. Some of the ladies get frisky with him and he backed into me. Accidentally parked that tight, little fanny right into my purse.”

I moved the conversation away from Todd’s tight, little fanny to prevent myself from taking another trip down Speedo lane. “So he’s working for Mr. Max.”

“I thought he drove a truck or something,” said Casey.

“He must be moonlighting. Even Todd wouldn’t be dumb enough to quit his job to deal bingo.” Or would he? Todd had issues with poker and Max had once tried to entice him into his underground gambling ring.

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