A Doggone Death by S.A. Kazlo

Author:S.A. Kazlo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: animals, dog, small business, animal mystery
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"So, did you like your meal?"

I laughed and nodded at my squeaky-clean plate. "Brian, what do you think?" I asked and pointed at everyone’s plates. Brian Mayfield, along with his wife Susan, stood next to our table. He was dressed in his chef’s whites and black checked pants. A toque topped his mop of red curls. A satisfied grin of a job well done spread across his face.

Hank rubbed his stomach and groaned. The cream-colored Aran Isle turtleneck sweater I had given him for Christmas rippled under his hand. I smiled as I thought back to his kisses of thanks for his present. We had made proper use of the mistletoe that hung from the archway that led into my dining room. Which led to more kisses on the sofa. Which led to… Well, enough reminiscing or I’d become a pile of Jell-O right here before all of Momma Mia’s customers recalling that night.

"Your lasagna even beats my Aunt Gladys’s, and she puts together a mean dish of pasta and sauce. But don’t you dare tell her. She’d beat me with her wooden spoon," Hank said, shuddering.

Hank’s declaration sent all of us into gales of laughter. Gladys was Hank’s aunt on his mother’s side. Her maiden name was Condi, and she was a true Italian through and through.

Not much terrified Hank, but riling his aunt’s temper would make men braver than he quake in their shoes. And Hank ranks as the bravest man that I know, in my unbiased opinion.

Mark tapped his clean plate with his fork. "Best shrimp scampi I’ve tasted in a long time."

Candie cuddled next to him. She caressed his flannel-covered forearm with her ringed fingers. Again, the rings' sparkle niggled at the back of my brain, but it wasn't clear yet. I smiled. If nothing else, my brain liked the idea of Mark and Candie as a couple. My poor cousin didn’t know it yet, but she’d dropped off the man-hunting market for good.

"Bet you’re busy with the incident at the fire house’s banquet hall the other day. It sure has set the town buzzing. It's all my customers talk about." Brian flicked a hand towards the room crowded with diners.

Glasses clinked, silverware scraped his delicious creations off diners' plates, and once again Dino serenaded us with one of his hits. This time "That’s Amore" filled the room. Were the heads bent in conversation whispering about Hilda’s death and her possible murderer? I hoped I no longer topped their list of possible suspects.

"The gossip spreading around town says arsenic did her in," Brian said, waving to a couple passing by our table.

Hank's eyebrow raised at me.

"Hey, don’t look at me. I didn’t say a thing," I said in my defense. How the news got out puzzled me, but my lips had remained sealed since Hank had told me—or rather murmured arsenic in his sleep.

Candie sipped her wine, a crisp Chardonnay her choice for tonight, while I preferred my tried-and-true Riesling. The guys had stuck to their beers.

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