S'more Murder by Josephine Beintema

Author:Josephine Beintema [Beintema, Josephine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798655207707
Published: 2020-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Reading of the Will

I was mad. How dare he? How dare that man pay for my groceries?

Slapping the dough with my hand I grabbed the rolling pin and hit it a little harder than necessary. Okay, a lot harder than necessary. I spread out a little more flour and began rolling, putting my muscles into it.

Detective Armand was an annoying, irritating, aggravating man. I pushed harder.

“Get it any thinner and it will be a wafer instead of a cookie,” remarked Agatha.

I sighed and stopped punishing the dough. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little angry.”

“Angry?” Mable asked in disbelief. She was pitting the cherries I had bought. “I would call you furious.”

We were all in the clubhouse kitchen which had seen much better days. After a thorough cleaning under my watchful eye, the ladies who had volunteered to do some baking were helping to put together a number of mouth-watering treats for tomorrows memorial. Thankfully, the ovens worked and some heavenly smells were already floating through the air.

“Ivy has been in a snit ever since she ran into Detective Armand at the grocery store,” supplied Thelma with a hint of superiority.

“I have not!” I exclaimed. “I simply find him a bit disturbing.”

“She won’t say what happened either,” sniffed Thelma.

“Must be something good to put her nose out of joint,” suggested Agatha. She carefully poured some oil into a bowl.

“My nose is not out of joint,” I sighed in slight frustration. “He questioned me again. Detective Armand seems to think I may have had something to do with Ethel’s murder and he was asking where I was when Grandma died.”

“Well that’s outrageous!” an indignant Mable exclaimed.

Agatha nodded with sympathy. “I can see that you have every reason to be upset.”

Thelma gave me a calculating look. It was obvious she thought there was more to the conversation between myself and Armand.

“My alibi for Friday night fell through,” I confessed. “I was at work the entire night but Nancy, who is one of the waitresses, changed the computer records so she could sneak extra hours. Essentially, Nancy stole my pay again. She does it all the time and no matter how much we tell our boss, he lets her.”

“Your boss must be sweet on Nancy,” Agatha’s lips puckered with distaste. “Men can be all kinds of fools when it comes to loving a woman.”

“Amen,” echoed Thelma as she pulled a tray of nut brownies out of the oven.

“What are you going to do about it?” wondered Mable. “How are you going to clear your name?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged my shoulders in confusion. “We’ve been trying to track down Ethel’s killer, yet nothing adds up.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be tracking the killer,” suggested Agatha.

“What do you mean?” questioned a curious Thelma.

“Maybe you need to find the weapon instead,” mused Agatha. “It would lead you to the killer.”

My eyes swung to a surprised Thelma. “That’s genius!”

“It could work,” agreed Thelma. “But how are we going to find a golf club? It could be anywhere. Someone’s garage, the rental shop at the White Oaks Golf Club, the trunk of a car.

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