Once Upon a Murder by Danielle Norman

Author:Danielle Norman [Norman, Danielle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781955420204
Publisher: F Squared, LLP

Chapter 9

Dottie turned off her engine and but didn’t get out of her car right away. What she was about to do wouldn’t be easy. She looked over at the covered dish on the passenger seat. Comfort food. That’s what it was supposed to be, but she imagined no amount of fried chicken was going to bring real comfort to Deirdre Tarlington after the loss of her Macy. Not even this prize-winning chicken that Paige had just made.

There were five other cars parked in front of Deirdre’s house. Two of them belonged to Sylvia and Thelma. Thelma had texted her about what food to bring so Deirdre wasn’t stuck with too much of the same thing. Sylvia and Thelma were masters at this comfort thing…visiting the sick in the hospital and cooking meals for the bereaved.

Dottie wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of person. She knew her strengths and weaknesses–bringing comfort wasn’t in her wheelhouse…unless it came wrapped up in a casserole dish that her granddaughter made.

Truth was, Deirdre probably didn’t want to see her. Dottie was just here yesterday, grilling Deirdre about her daughter’s involvement in Parker Chabert’s murder. In the back of her mind, Dottie suspected Macy of doing the deed.

Hmm…maybe she did kill him…them the remorse got the best of her.

Dottie pushed the unwanted thought away. It was proof that she’d watched too much Columbo and Matlock back in the day. Her imagination was getting the best of her.

There was no way of proving Macy was a killer now, unless the cops had found a confession note in Macy’s handwriting on the scene. As far as she knew that wasn’t the case. She had to assume that Macy was innocent and there was either one killer who had offed both Parker and Macy or that Macy’s murder was a revenge killing. In that case, there were two killers roaming around sweet little Poultry, Georgia.

Not a comforting thought.

Dottie fisted her hands and pounded her thighs. Times like this she needed to hit something. Hard. Her body opponent bag had been delivered, thankfully. When she got back to the shop, she’d surely give old Bob a pummeling.

She drew a deep breath and grabbed the chicken.

Right now was the time for comforting her old friend. Later, she would punish Bob, in preparation for punishing who all was responsible for these heinous crimes.

As long as there was breath in her lung, they weren’t getting away with this.

Susan, the pastor’s wife, greeted Dottie with a hug at the door.

“How is she doing?” Dottie asked her, referring to Deirdre.

Thelma, Sylvia, and two other women were seated around Deirdre’s kitchen table. Steaming mugs of coffee were positioned at their fingertips but no one was talking. There were long faces all around. And Deirdre was nowhere in sight.

Susan whispered, “She’s not doing too good.”

The bright yellow kitchen curtains fluttered in the cool breeze drifting into the room. The mood, though, was anything but sunny.

Standing in the kitchen doorway, Dottie didn’t beat around the bush with niceties. She had one thing on her mind as she stood before her peers sitting around Deirdre’s table.

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