Murder by Eggnog by Karin Kaufman

Author:Karin Kaufman [Kaufman, Karin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Winter Tree Books
Published: 2023-12-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

Eddie drove ahead of us into Diane’s living room. “So what are we looking for, ladies?”

“We’re not looking for anything,” Jean answered. “If you get caught, you’re in trouble, Eddie. Go home or go drive around.”

Eddie waved a hand, shooing away her concerns. “The door was open. We noticed it and went inside to see who was here. We thought Pattie might’ve come early. How were we to know?”

With that, he did a U-turn and headed for the bedroom.

His defense for breaking in, should he have needed one, had been on his tongue in an instant, reminding me of Angela’s comment to Jean about our earlier break-in: At your age you can tell them anything and they’ll believe it.

Maybe when hit your sixties or seventies, you had to be prepared to defend yourself in a world that worshiped youth. The downside of being seventy, I supposed, was that no one paid attention to you.

The upside was that no one paid attention to you.

While Eddie was puttering in the bedroom, I gathered cookies and fudge from the rug and coffee table and put them in a plastic bag. I gave them a sniff, too, but none smelled heavily of nutmeg.

I stood and surveyed the living room, debating where to look next. Jean was poking through Diane’s bookshelves and then, for some reason, examining electric cords on the lamps and the TV.

We’d both read too many murder mysteries.

In the kitchen, I peered into the refrigerator and found only a container of lettuce, a cheese wedge, some condiments—I sniffed them too—a jar of pickles, and unopened packages of beef and chicken. On the counter, there was a loaf of cheap white bread and a bottle of olive oil.

I pulled open the tea drawer and stared at the contents. It was beyond me why an intruder would’ve emptied the drawer onto the counter. Nutmeg tea, maybe? Did such a thing exist? Even if it did, no one would sell it in toxic form.

Next I investigated the red vinyl envelope on Diane’s refrigerator. Hers was held in place by a magnet and easy to remove. I slipped the card out. There were only two medications listed, one for her blood pressure, the other for her thyroid.

“Darn,” I said under my breath.

“Kelise, I tasted some of Diane's cookies.”

I wheeled around to see Jean holding what remained of an iced log cookie. “Just take nibbles,” I warned. “They’re probably safe, but we can’t be sure.”

“There’s nothing to them but sugar and flour. They taste stale, but normal, not spicy.”

“I didn’t smell much if any nutmeg, either. I don’t see wine or beer in her apartment.”

“She didn’t drink, or smoke. Even in school, she was always the straight arrow. Everyone else was smoking cigarettes and drinking gin in the park.”

Sighing, I leaned against the counter. “Why would someone search her tea drawer? Any idea? Did she keep anything besides tea in here?”

“I’ve thought about that, but I only ever saw tea, strainers, spoons, and honey in there. It’s too small a drawer for much else.

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