Coffee, Tea, or Murder? by Jessica Fletcher; Donald Bain

Author:Jessica Fletcher; Donald Bain
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Women Detectives, Detective and Mystery Stories, London (England), Mystery & Detective, Fiction, American, Women Authors, Women Sleuths, General, Crime, Jessica (Fictitious Character), Media Tie-In, Fletcher
ISBN: 9780451220875
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2007-04-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

We’ve all seen photographs of actors or actresses portraying a range of emotions—grief, anger, sadness, and joy. But no actor or actress could possibly exhibit shock as effectively as Christine Silverton did at that moment. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes wide, her brow creased. She stared at Jason, seemingly wanting to say something but incapable of uttering the words.

“I know you’re surprised to see me, Christine,” Jason said, “but I did expect a warmer greeting after all these years.”

“You?” she managed. “You own an airline?”

“That’s probably the biggest surprise of all,” he said.

Someone leaned on a car horn, causing Jason to wince.

“Let’s go inside where it’s quieter,” he suggested.

“I—” Christine struggled to express her thoughts at the moment, but failed. She swirled away from us and entered the hotel, leaving me alone with this young man who claimed to be her stepson.

“Tsk. Tsk. No ‘How are you?’ No ‘So sorry about your dad.’ Not even a ‘Would you like some tea, Jason?’ Not exactly a warm welcome, is it?”

“I am very sorry about your father,” I said. “It must have been a terrible shock for you.”

“Just terrible,” he said, but his tone was sarcastic. “A cup of coffee, Mrs. Fletcher?” He cocked his head. “Or maybe tea. We are, after all, in jolly old England. Frankly, I’ve never gotten into the tea habit since moving here. A cup of strong, black coffee is more to my liking. But I understand if—”

“Your sudden arrival has obviously upset your stepmother,” I said, “and she’s had her share of upsets lately.”

“Of course,” he said, “the grieving widow and all that sort of thing. She’s good at playing roles. That’s how she trapped my father.”

“I think I would like a cup of tea,” I said, “and you can have your coffee.”

“Wonderful! I didn’t come here expecting to enjoy the company of a world famous writer. Murder mysteries, aren’t they? I’m not much into murder mysteries—science fiction is more my thing—but maybe you can convert me.”

A doorman held open a door for me. I was halfway through when I turned and said to the smug young man who hadn’t moved, “Coming?”

He followed me inside, and we went to the same table I’d earlier shared with Christine. Without a change of expression, the same waiter took our orders. We sat across from each other, saying nothing but harboring a multitude of thoughts.

“So,” Jason said, breaking the silence, “I take it you didn’t know that I even exist.”

“That’s correct,” I said, “although there really isn’t a reason for me to know. I knew your father had gotten married, but we really didn’t keep up with each other socially. And I’m not that close to your stepmother—she is your stepmother?”

“She married my father. I believe that makes her my stepmother. Why would I lie about something like that?” he said. “Besides, you saw her reaction at seeing me. Total recognition.”

“Not happy recognition, either, I’d say.”

He gave a little snort. “Christine and I have never gotten along.

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