Ghosts, Pies, & Alibis: A Flannigan Sisters Mystery - Book 2 (Flannigan Sisters Mysteries) by Reid Amanda

Author:Reid, Amanda
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Enchanted Rock Publishing, LLC
Published: 2019-11-04T00:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

Later that evening, Mina, knocked on Clara's front door and waited for an answer. Kinley and Trace stood next to her. Since her large sedan sat in the carport, Clara had to be back from Fort Worth with Brittany. Mina pushed the doorbell again, then scanned the windows. Desperate to reach the light, moths tapped against the windows of what should be the living room.

"Try the door," Kinley said.

It wasn't polite to walk on into a house without an announcement, one of many courtesies drummed into her head by Granma. But the kids were family, right? Mina twisted the knob and found it locked. "Stay here in case your auntie or mamma comes to the door. I'll go around back." She left the children on the concrete stoop and rounded the corner. Voices carried from the back.

"You need to stop seeing her," Clara said. Instead of anger, her words carried defeat.

Shamefully, Mina stopped before she revealed herself.

"You know I can't, Clara." The soft tones could've only come from Brittany. "I love her."

"But this whole blackmail thing with Wayne would never have happened—"

"You don't know for sure. If it wasn't him, it might have been someone else."

Blackmail? Wayne? Mina scoffed at her initial surprise. After all, he'd blackmailed her into finding his killer. Why would she be surprised he'd blackmailed Brittany and Laura.

Clara humphed. "Do you think Brian knew, too?"

"I don't know. Maybe he put him up to it."

"We'll never know now he's dead. I just hope the police— What was that sound?"

Clara's sharp words prompted Mina from her hiding place. "Hello?" she cried out as she made the corner. "Anyone here? Oh—there y'all are."

Clara rose from her seat on a plastic patio chair. A younger woman reclined on a lounge chair, dark rings of bruising under her weary eyes, an arm casted and strapped in a sling. She struggled to rise, imitating her aunt's southern courtesy with the appearance of guests.

"Please, stay seated," Mina said. "I'll go get the kids."

Clara waved Mina toward one of the empty chairs. "Have a seat. I forgot I hadn’t unlocked the front door. I'll let the kids in." She bustled into the small brick house through a sliding glass door.

It was a testament to Clara's agitation that she didn't make the introductions. Mina slid down into a brown plastic adirondack chair still warm from the afternoon sun and peered at the woman who could only be a couple of years older than herself. "I'm Mina. I'll take it by the bandages, you're Brittany?"

She lifted her casted arm in its sling and winced. "Guilty." Bruises, setting toward greens and yellows stood out on her face, but the spectacular black eyes from the still-bandaged wound on her forehead would take its sweet time to fade.

The silence had grown and it was Mina's conversation turn. "I'm glad you're going to be okay." She covered her wince at the stupid platitude with a smile.

"Someday." The tight word rang with restrained pain.

Kinley and Trace flew through the door with cries of "Mama!"

"Watch now.

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