The Death in the Drink by Shéa MacLeod

Author:Shéa MacLeod [MacLeod, Shéa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Modern, Humour, fun, strong female lead, comedy, murder mystery, crafts & hobbies, amateur sleuth
Google: rqqztQEACAAJ
Goodreads: 37910055
Publisher: Sunwalker Press
Published: 2018-01-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Stone Cold

“So that’s two people who saw Bryon near Tabitha right before she went into the drink,” I said as Cheryl and I gathered our picnic baskets from the car. “He was much closer to her than he claimed.”

The wind had died down and the day, while overcast and cool, remained dry. After the tour, the rangers had moved several picnic tables together so we could dine al fresco. Sitting on the ground in stays wasn’t an option. The boning dug into all sorts of places. I don’t know how they do it in the movies.

“It does seem suspicious,” she agreed. “After telling us he was nowhere near her.”

“Exactly. Why would he lie unless he pushed her?”

“Unless he was afraid he’d be accused of it,” she pointed out. “Innocent people do lie occasionally. Especially when the police are involved.”

I sighed. “True. But then why would Jayne be all bent out of shape? They’re hiding something, I tell you.”

“We should tell Bat.”

I shook my head. “Bat will want proof of…whatever this is. Cold, hard facts. Right now we have no idea what’s going on, never mind any evidence.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Cheryl tucked her basket over one arm and daintily lifted the hem of her gown with the other hand. “What surprises me is Anthony being so quiet today. I’m surprised he hasn’t attacked Bryon already. I half expected him to launch himself across the fort and ring Bryon’s neck.”

I was with her on that. “Bet he won’t make it through the picnic without doing something crazy.”

Ella had thrown table cloths over the picnic tables and added bud vases filled with cut flowers from the grocery store. Instead of paper plates and cups, the costumers had brought china tea sets and plates, proper silverware, and cloth napkins. The sisters had even brought a teapot complete with a little candle-operated warmer for keeping their tea hot.

We began unpacking our baskets. I’d gone for pretty typical picnic food: a pre-made sandwich, grapes, a bag of chips, and some cookies. Apparently, I got it wrong. The costumers took picnicking to a whole other level. There were three kinds of deviled eggs, little crustless tea sandwiches, mini meat pies, Scotch eggs, homemade fruit tarts, lavender cookies, and petit fours. The sisters had brought a Victorian sponge—a vanilla sponge cake layered with whipped cream and jam. Very British. I wasn’t sure it was period correct being from the Victorian era, but it sure looked tasty and no one seemed to mind an edible anachronism.

On the edge of the group, Bryon staggered around in a drunken haze. It was, frankly, embarrassing. However, no one seemed to pay him any notice, even when he tottered off down the trail mumbling to himself. Seeing my chance to question him alone, I was about to follow when Jayne stormed after him. A moment later they returned. Bryon was wiping his mouth and Jayne was calling him disgusting.

I took the opportunity to pull Lenore aside. “Why did you lie to me about Bryon kissing Tabitha?”

She blanched.

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