Southern Harm: A Southern B&B Mystery by Caroline Fardig

Author:Caroline Fardig [Fardig, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2019-11-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Delilah and I missed each other in our comings and goings today, but we’d made new plans to sit down after I got home tonight and bring each other up to speed on how we’d spent our days.

Tucker and I headed to Cucina Fresca, a lovely little Italian restaurant tucked into a mostly residential neighborhood. It felt like we were sitting down to eat in someone’s home, so warm and inviting.

After we ordered our food, he said quietly, “Aunt Lela’s got a hearing tomorrow morning. Is there any way you could be there? I think I’m going to need as much moral support as she is.”

My heart wrenching, I reached across the table and took his hand. “Of course I’ll be there. For both of you.”

He gave me a sad smile and squeezed my hand hard. We had to get this thing solved soon. I hated knowing Tucker’s aunt was imprisoned, but I worried for his mental well-being just as much. I could see in his eyes the helplessness he felt. They’d lost that sparkle I liked so much.

“Do you have any good news for me? Delilah texted me earlier and said you were dividing and conquering today.”

“No earth-shattering news to report, but we are making progress. And about us working independently today…to be honest I didn’t enjoy it as much. Delilah and I make a good team. Our personalities are so different, a lot of times when one of us is having trouble communicating with someone, the other knows exactly what to say to get the conversation flowing.”

“And being together is safer.”

“True, but considering my interview list today consisted of a middle-aged gossip girl, a teacher, and my dad, it couldn’t get much safer.”

Flashing me a relieved smile, he said, “I’ll agree that doesn’t sound dangerous at all.”

We were served salads at that time, so we suspended our conversation and dug into our food. As we were finishing the salads, I shifted our focus onto more lighthearted issues, like sharing what kinds of unusual requests guests had made this week and asking if he wanted to drive around and look at Christmas lights and decorations sometime soon. He responded politely, but I knew his mind was elsewhere. Before our food came, I got a text from Delilah saying that she’d managed to track down more current information on Dennis Griffin. He spent most evenings tending bar at a place on Abercorn Street not too far from where we were now.

Our dinners were delicious, but there was a somber pall over our table. I tried to come up with easy conversation starters, but Tucker simply didn’t have much to say. I imagined his mind was fully dwelling on Aunt Lela’s court appearance tomorrow, and I didn’t blame him a bit. I would probably have been feeling the same way if I didn’t have this investigation looming over me.

Speaking of which, if we didn’t put in a request to speak to the chef soon, we might lose our chance. I waved our waitress over and did exactly that.

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