Past Crimes and Tell-Tale Signs: A Humorous Cozy Mystery (Olivia Twist Mystery Series Book 5) by Jorgensen Irene

Author:Jorgensen, Irene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Apatite Publishing
Published: 2023-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

I meandered toward Clark’s family. The closer I got, the more convinced I was that Briar and her brother were the shadowy figures in the burning cabin photo.

My head pounded. How could I prove their connection to the birth certificate and the burning cabin photo? One at a time, Olivia. One at a time. I’d start with Prescott and the birth certificate. Get that out of the way before trying to prove arson as a motive.

“’Ello, Briar. You look particularly posh today. And Hank, you’re as spiffy as any London toff.”

I smiled at Briar’s brother and daughter, who were eyeballing my outfit.

“I’m Madame Mystic. Pleased as punch to meet you.”

Wynn clasped her hands. “I love your necklaces. It looks like each one is a different chakra color.”

“Yes, indeed.” I immediately liked her. There was something about the waif-like young woman that seemed innocent, guileless and naïve. “What a brilliant observation. You must be Wynn.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “I’ve studied all about the chakras and their auras.”

Her uncle snorted. “Woo-woo stuff. What a waste of time.”

I didn’t bother telling him others had made that same mistake. I turned to the roly-poly man whose body shape resembled the man in the burning cabin photo. “And you must be Briar’s brother.”

“Yes, I’m Floyd.”

About to ask where the son was, I stopped when Annie brushed past me to the microphone. It crackled as her voice boomed through the room. “Testing. Testing.”

People stilled and shifted their attention to Annie, who continued, “Welcome, everyone. Clark’s family would like to thank you for attending his visitation and encourage you to enjoy the buffet. We’re serving sandwiches, coffee, tea and delicious mini butter tarts.”

“What did you say?” The century-old woman hollered, her voice cackling. Her crushed silk flower hat tilted to one side as she cupped her ear. “I forgot my hearing aid, dearie.”

Annie returned the microphone to its stand before joining the old woman, who cupped her ear again to listen.

Three women crowded around Briar. “I hear Clark was your husband,” one of them said.

“Yes, he was.”

Wynn stepped back, turned and hurried to the buffet. I’d hoped to speak with her alone, so I joined her. The first ones there, we surveyed the table. Wynn filled her plate with eight sandwich quarters.

“Looks like quite the nosh up,” I said.

“My mom says it’s rude to go first in line at a buffet, but I’m hungry. So many rules when it comes to food.” She scrunched her forehead. “Funny how those rules don’t apply to alcohol. You should see how fast my mom and her friends move to get first in line at a bar.”

I smiled. “I’m a tad peckish myself.” I eyeballed the sandwiches. Egg Salad. Ham. Cheese. I picked up a quarter sandwich of each, then added celery sticks to my plate. “I’m sorry your father died.”

“Me too. Are you really psychic?” Wynn asked.

“Yes, I am, ducky.”

“Can you tell me why my father had all those print pictures? Who took them?” She bit into a quarter cheese sandwich.

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