The Aurora Teagarden Mysteries: Omnibus 2: Dead Over Heels, a Fool and His Honey, Last Scene Alive, Poppy Done to Death (AURORA TEAGARDEN MYSTERY) by Charlaine Harris

Author:Charlaine Harris [Harris, Charlaine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery, Thrillers & Suspense, Crime, Crime Fiction
ISBN: 9780684804293
Amazon: B004JHY8BM
Publisher: Gollancz
Published: 2011-02-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Normally, when Martin returned from a business trip I got to tell him about the kid who threw up on the Berenstain Bears book, or what the plumber had told me when he’d come to repair the hot water heater.

When he walked in the front door late that afternoon, I hardly knew where to begin. As it turned out, Martin had stopped at the Pan-Am Agra plant, so he already knew that Shelby was in the hospital. After his first anxious questions, he settled down to listen with that total concentration that made him such a good executive.

I think Martin was just as shocked by Angel’s pregnancy as by Shelby being attacked in our front yard. And when I told him about the ribbon around Madeleine’s neck and the deaths of Beverly and Selena Rillington, he had to get up and walk around the kitchen.

It was still raining, and I watched the drops hit the large window by the table where Martin and I usually ate, the window overlooking the side of the garage and the steps up to the apartment, as well as some lovely pink azaleas hidden now by the darkness. The drops might hit at random, but they ran down the glass with monotonous regularity. The rain increased my sense of being stockaded against the danger outside, besieged.

Martin strode through the dining room, out into the living room, back through the archway into the dining room. He circled the table and shot back into the kitchen again, stopping by the window to stare out into the blackness.

“Who sent the flowers?” he asked abruptly, and I glanced into the dining room to see that they were still in their vase on the table. A few blossoms were shriveling, and one or two bits of baby’s breath had fallen to the polished surface of the old table.

The delivery of the flowers seemed so long ago I’d forgotten about it completely. Now, when I added it to my list of happenings, Martin gave me a sharp look, one that said effectively, “All this you didn’t tell me over the telephone?”

Martin often reminded me of the Roman officer in the New Testament, the one who told Jesus that when he said “Go,” people went, and when he said “Come,” people hopped to it. Now, he was apparently trying to decide what he could do about this situation, and he was angrily seeing that there was nothing he could do.

“Do you think the little hospital here is the best place for Shelby, can he get the best care available? I could have him moved to Atlanta by ambulance.” Martin looked almost happy at this prospect of action.

“I don’t believe there’s any need of that,” I said gently. “Besides, the doctors here are very aware that the city hospitals have things the Lawrenceton Hospital doesn’t have, and they would have sent him to the city without hesitation if they thought his situation warranted that. Plus, you know,” I said even more gently, “that’s Angel’s call, not yours.

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