Page 69 of Dead & Breakfast
“Sal!” Arthur exclaimed, grappling the phone out of his hands as Sal hit send.
“What is it now? Do you not approve of my texting etiquette? I even included some hugs and kisses in case she took any of that the wrong way. Wouldn’t want her to expect an interrogation.”
Arthur clicked on Quinn’s contact card and flipped to the notebook page on which he’d written Brody’s mystery texter’s number. He held them up side by side and motioned for Sal to look.
The numbers matched.
Arthur smiled. “She may not expect an interrogation, but it’s exactly what she’ll get.”
“Oh, goodie!” Sal clapped his hands together. “Now, let’s talk menu. What says, ‘We’re oh so sorry to ask, but did you try to kill a teenager?’ Waffles or pancakes?”
Chapter 18
Though Arthur couldn’tbe completely sure, he suspected that never before had the setting for a detective’s interrogation smelled so heavenly. He and Sal had made a spread to rival that of the first morning of Nora’s stay—before the discovery of the late mayor in their flower garden. The meals since had been a tad lackluster in Arthur’s estimation, but perhaps he didn’t need to worry about Nora’s opinion of the inn, considering she might be involved in the murder.
This morning, Sal had revisited his anatomically correct heart–shaped pancakes, adding raspberry syrup Arthur had made from fresh berries, and he’d shaped the scones like little bats. Arthur was too nervous to even playfully chide Sal for leaning too heavily into the wholewe’re vampiresbusiness. There were far more pressing matters at hand.
A few minutes before ten, Nora walked into the kitchen, looking cozy in an oversize T-shirt and leggings. Arthur had yet to see her in such casual attire, though of course brunch didn’t have a dress code. He himself had tried to go for a lazy Sunday look, sporting ataupe sweater with elbow patches over his usual button-down along with slacks and his most comfortable loafers. His neat white apron completed the ensemble. A timeless look he liked to think would put their guests at ease. Sal, on the other hand, was making a particular statement with his tie-dye and bell-bottoms.
“This looks incredible,” Nora said, though her tone was muted. Perhaps she, too, was drawing parallels between today’s offering and that from her first morning at the Iris Inn. The shadow of the mayor’s death loomed in every corner.
“Nora, darling, can you help me carry these plates?” Sal asked. “Quinn will be here soon, and I want to have the whole table set by then.”
“Quinn?” Her words turned brittle. “She’s coming?”
“Yes, didn’t I mention that? We’ll be a fearsome foursome!” Sal swooped forward with a few platters of food. “There’s something so clandestine about the number four, isn’t there? The Beatles, the Incredibles, the Jonas Brothers—”
“There are five Incredibles,” Arthur said. “And only three Jonas Brothers.”
“Joe, Nick, Kevin, and Vladimir.”
“Vladimir Jonas? You’re making that up.”
Sal huffed. “Just because he’s their grandfather to the eighth degree…You’re just like all those other fake fans.”
Arthur held up his hands in surrender. Now wasn’t the time for one of Sal’s impassioned rants about pop culture.
“You didnottell me about Quinn.” Nora fisted her hands in the fabric of her shirt. “You said this brunch was to apologize for accusing me of murder.”
“Come now.” Sal turned back to Nora, replacing his pout with a glowing smile. “You don’t suppose you were the only person we accused of murder yesterday, do you?”
“Please tell me you didn’t invite themall,” Arthur muttered.
“Of course not! Though, now you mention it, Theo would have been an excellent addition to our party…”
Nora sighed heavily. “I…I need to go change.” She fled the room, knocking into Sal on her way and nearly bringing a platter of sausages to their demise.
“Well, that’s something,” Arthur said.
“I’ll say!” Sal lowered the plates back to the counter. “Downright heroic of me, I should think.”
“What?”
“The sausages. I saved them!” Sal gestured to the links, now clustered near the lip of the platter. “They’ll probably throw a party in my honor, give me a medal or something.”
“We’re just going to eat them all anyway.”
Sal pressed a finger to Arthur’s lips and hushed him. “Not so loud! The sausages will hear you!”
