Money Can Be Murder by Connie Shelton

Author:Connie Shelton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: cozy mystery dog, female private investigator, heist books, charlie parker series, female sleuths series, con artist mysteries, cozy mystery series
Publisher: Columbine Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Visiting the recently bereaved is tough. You never know what to say or what you might do to help. It gets even trickier when you hardly know the family, but Dottie needed a day off to tend to some other things so I agreed to drive Elsa and her gigantic pot of green chile stew over to the Stevens home.

Bonnie answered the door, dressed in navy blue pants and a coordinated elbow-length sweater. Her face seemed wan, but her hair was clean and her clothing neat. She graciously thanked us for coming, while Elsa explained how she made her stew and that it would keep in either the fridge or freezer. It was even better when rewarmed, as the flavors fully blended on the second day after the stew was made. I wondered whether Bonnie was absorbing any of that, but she seemed attentive.

We were walking toward the kitchen during all this, and I saw that the four children were gathered in the family room with a large jigsaw puzzle, and some kindly adult sat there with them, making suggestions. Two other women were chatting quietly in the kitchen, where an array of coffee and tea options were set up to be offered.

The house was even more spotless than the first time I’d been there, with no sign that a complete disruption to this family’s life had just occurred. Maybe Bonnie was one of those women who, under extreme pressure, launches into cleaning mode. I know I do.

A wall phone rang and the kitchen women sent glances toward Bonnie. She shook her head and excused herself to Elsa, stepping over to pick it up. We couldn’t very well blatantly eavesdrop, so Elsa set the stewpot on the range top and introduced herself to the other women. I browsed the basket of teabags, which one of the ladies took as an invitation to pick up the kettle and pour me a cup of hot water. I let her do it. The activity gave me a chance to keep one ear on Bonnie’s conversation, which went something like this:

“Yes, I see.” “But I don’t understand—” “All right, thank you for calling.” She had carried the phone around the corner into the laundry room, so I couldn’t watch her expression during the short call. When she returned to replace the handset on its cradle, she seemed to be making an effort to compose herself before she gave an abrupt exhale and looked up with a wan smile on her face.

“Are you all right?” Elsa asked, approaching and setting a gentle hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. She’s so much better at this stuff than I am.

Bonnie nodded. “That was a police officer, or detective, or someone. I’m not sure.”

One of the kitchen ladies took the cue and carried a plate of cookies to the kids in the family room, distracting them.

“We were at the shop yesterday when the police came. What are they saying about all this?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

Bonnie glanced quickly around the room, as if the answer might be lurking behind the cookie jar or someplace.

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