Dinners and Disasters in Las Vegas: A Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 21) by A.R. Winters

Author:A.R. Winters [Winters, A.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-03T16:00:00+00:00

When we were back in my car, Nanna turned to me. “What do you think?”

“Not sure.” I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. “They all claim they loved her, but she was mean to pretty much all of them.”

“I bet none of them want to criticize their mother now she’s dead. It would make them look terrible, wouldn’t it?”

“That it would. So what do you think? One of them had been harboring a grudge against their mean mother for years and finally took a chance and killed her?”

“Could be. Or maybe one of their spouses did it? I don’t think they had the same underlying affection as her own flesh-and-blood children, did they?”

I drummed the steering wheel some more. “She seemed the meanest to Louis. Speaking of which, did he say one single funny thing?”

“Maybe he’s funnier on stage,” said Nanna charitably, though without conviction. “The middle husband, the limo driver, he seemed to melt into the background, didn’t he? I don’t think he could murder a sandwich, let alone a person.”

“What about Steve?”

“He seems the most normal of them all. And he’s got a proper job that actually pays a decent salary. Did she even say anything mean to him?”

“Just about him always being away traveling.” I remembered overhearing Lydia complaining that he should get a job in Las Vegas instead of being away all the time. It was hardly the kind of criticism that could make one murderous. Was it?

“Then it’s probably the youngest one. He had a mean look on his face the whole time. And he wanted money to buy a shop or something, didn’t he?”

“Eric? Yeah. He did want to buy the convenience store he works in, but I think he’s changed his mind.”

“I’d look into him some more if I were you. I don’t trust him.”

“Maybe you’re right.” I disengaged the brake and indicated that I was pulling out. “After all, he has a criminal conviction for assault as well.”

“There you go, then. Assault, murder, it’s all the same ballpark.”

“You think so?” Maybe Nanna was right.

We drove back in thoughtful silence while I tried to imagine Eric sneaking a vial of poison across the table in the dark and pouring it into his own mother’s soup.

It was a bit different than getting into a physical fight with someone.

But it was still a violent act against another person.

Nanna was right. We needed to look at Eric some more.

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