Page 93 of Murder By the Millions
“There’s a final callback tonight. I’m so nervous.”
“Don’t be. Evelyn will make you feel comfortable.”
“As if. She’s intimidating!”
“She’s a pussycat,” I said, though I wasn’t so sure, since I still couldn’t figure out why she and my mother were at odds.
“Ooh, what’s all this?” Chloe was gazing at the food on the desk.
“A taste test for theGatsbyevent.” I explained what each was. “Want to try?”
“Yes, please. I adore pineapple. May I do the honors?”
“Sure. That way I can keep wrapping with clean fingers.”
She dashed into the stockroom and returned with plates, napkins, forks, and a cake knife. She cut a slice of cake for herself and another for me and dove in. “Wow. Not too soggy. Not too dry. Just right.” She giggled. “I sound like Goldilocks.” She took another bite. “I’ve always wanted to try my hand at making this, but you know me. I can’t cook worth a lick.”
Tegan emerged from the stockroom, her arms filled with copies ofThe Great Gatsby.“Done.” She set the books on the counter. “I’ll tag them after I eat dessert.”
“It’s delish,” Chloe said. “I’m going to wash my hands. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared.
The front door opened, and Vanna strode in, all dolled up, her hair in a messy twist, tendrils cupping her face. I preferred her in jeans, sans makeup, but I’d never say so. She took such pains to put herself together.
“Which political big wheel did you meet today?” I asked.
She skirted the display table, her mouth quirked up on one side. “What makes you think I met with anyone?”
“Well, those are not delivery togs,” I joked.
She assessed herself all the way down to her spiked heels. “The governor took me to lunch. He’s thinking of running for president and wanted to talk to me about becoming the personal chef at the White House if he wins.”
My mouth dropped open. “Really?”
“No, silly. Get real.” She swatted the air. “The governor would never deign to come to Bramblewood. I met with the bank manager who handled all of Aunt Marigold’s affairs. She wanted me to meet with an investment guy. He’s very nice.” She eyed Tegan. “You should meet with him, too. Sooner rather than later.”
Vanna and Tegan had inherited a sizable amount of money, stocks, and jewelry when their aunt passed away.
“I will,” Tegan promised. “But first I need to finalize divorce proceedings. Serving my ex papers has been a challenge.”
“I think the bank manager wants you to get advice first,” Vanna said. “But don’t quote me on that. Call her. What’re you doing, Allie?”
I handed her the wrapped version ofThe Murder of Roger Ackroyd.“Here. Enjoy a blind date with a book.”
“Which book is it?”
“That’s the point. You don’t know until you accept the blind date.”
As she read the caption, her mouth screwed up, making her look like she’d tasted something tart. “I don’t read mysteries.”
“Yes, I know, but you want to be part of Allie’s Clue Crew, don’t you? You have to read a few to understand how a detective’s mind works.”
She sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll read it. But I won’t like it.” She unwrapped the book and frowned. “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd? Well, I guess I know who’s going to die.”
“There’s a good twist.”
Tegan leaned in. “Maybe we should’ve given her a culinary cozy, like one of the Domestic Diva mysteries. She’d relate to snooty Natasha, don’t you think?”
“Or what about the mysteries set in Key West?” Chloe suggested, rejoining us. “The protagonist is a food critic.”
