Wine Tastings Are Murder (A Poppy McAllister Mystery Book 5) by Libby Klein

Author:Libby Klein [Klein, Libby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-11-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-five

Ryan and Alyce were sitting at the table across from each other. They were in mid-argument when I walked into the room, and the tail end of it slithered around my ankles and tried to trip me. Ryan hissed at Alyce, “We’re too close to mess this up now.” He spotted me and made such an obvious not now look to Alyce I almost laughed out loud.

Very subtle, Ryan. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”

Alyce held up her coffee cup. “My room is hot. I think the thermostat is broken. Could you send Maintenance to look at it?”

I filled her cup with Colombian medium roast. “Of course. I’ll send someone this afternoon.” I have Bob Vila on speed dial.

Ryan held up his hand that he didn’t want coffee. “Just juice. What are you serving this morning?”

“French Toast Casserole.”

“I really expected the food to be fancier in a bed and breakfast. Don’t you have a separate menu for when VIPs visit or something?”

“No. We just have the one menu, but the selections change every day.”

“Well, what is it tomorrow?”

Hopefully it’ll be an Egg McMuffin on your way out of town. I smiled. “I’m still working on it.”

Aunt Ginny came through the door with a wooden box in her hands. She walked up to Ryan and opened it. “Tea bag?”

I had to throw my face into my elbow and pretend to cough. The kitchen roared with laughter just on the other side of the door.

Ryan’s face was blank. He shook his head no. “Do you think you could get me some fresh papaya for tomorrow?”

Seeing as how it’s the middle of March and we’re about five thousand miles from Hawaii, doubtful. “I’ll see if the market has any.”

I entered the kitchen, where the biddies were bent over double in hysterics. Aunt Ginny was getting bags of frozen vegetables for each one of them. Mother Gibson took her bag of lima beans and shoved it down the back of her polyester slacks. “Oooh, that’s better.”

“You-all are terrible. I can’t believe you did that.”

Aunt Ginny shook a bag of succotash at me. “I can’t believe you let me believe it was ‘tea bag.’”

I took trays of Canadian bacon to the dining room and Sawyer brought out a pan of French Toast Casserole. Bob and Rosie had joined Ryan and Alyce at the table. By the time I’d filled their cups with coffee and juice, Willow and Ken were seated. Everything was unduly strained. Either every couple were fighting with each other or these people really didn’t get along. I suggested some museums—which were shot down. I recommended shopping on the Washington Street Mall—which was scoffed at. And finally, I threw out that I had a cabinet full of board games and puzzles in the library—which got me stares so cold I almost caught frostbite.

Aunt Ginny brought in a bowl with three kinds of fresh melon balls with mint, sensed the mood, and quickly retreated back to the kitchen.

Zara entered the dining room in a gorgeous yellow sundress and yellow and white wedge lace-up sandals.

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