Read Online Tempest in a Teapot (A Teapot Collector Mystery) by Amanda Cooper - Free Book Online

or bad. The paramedics, two young guys, worked to rescue the distressed woman, initiating CPR and hooking up a heart monitor. Their dialogue was terse and cryptic.
    The guests, knotted together, watched the scene, the attitude of the group one of disbelief mixed with shock. One paramedic fired a series of questions at Francis, who replied with what little he seemed to know about his mother’s health. No, she had no heart ailments that he was aware of. Yes, she had allergies but only to a few foods, none of which had been served that day that he knew of. No, no history of stroke, and no, she was not on blood thinners. He thought. He wasn’t sure. They finally strapped Vivienne to a gurney and wheeled her out to the ambulance; moments later they screamed away toward the closest hospital.
    Wally Bowman cast one long glance around the room. “Francis, you want to tell me what happened here?”
    “My mom . . . she’s sick. I need to get to the hospital,” he said, his voice choked. He straightened his tie and jacket, then started toward the door.
    “Wait!” Wally said, putting out his arm to block the way. “Francis, it’s okay, she’s being taken care of. Cissy,
you
want to tell me what happened?”
    Francis paused, then turned toward his fiancée.
    Tears stood in her eyes, but she responded well to Wally’s command. “We were having a little celebration for our engagement. Everything was real nice,” she said, nodding toward the table arrayed with a tea set and trays with the remnants of finger sandwiches, scones and frosted red-velvet cupcakes. “We were just having some snacks when Vivienne started up out of her chair, then collapsed on the floor.” She waved her hand at the mess—tea spilled, crumbs and yellow icing smeared around.
    The florid, heavyset woman moaned. Everyone turned to look at her.
    “Aunt Florence?” Francis said, looking worried.
    “It was
her
,” Florence Whittaker said, pointing one shaky finger at Thelma Mae Earnshaw, still collapsed on the chair but now with both hands over her eyes. “It was her cooking that caused this! Poor Vivienne. She’ll probably have to have her stomach pumped. What was it, cheap chicken with salmonella in the sandwiches?” she screeched, working herself up. “Or . . .” Her voice trailed off and she just stared, shaking her head. She leaped up from her chair and grabbed her big purse. “We need to get to the hospital. Francis is right. We need to
go
.”
    “I agree,” Cissy said, her tone calm. “Before it’s too late.”
    Sophie stared at her childhood friend. Cissy’s high voice was calm, her gaze level, her face as pale as always. Wally was watching her, too. His cell phone chirped and he answered it, his expression becoming grave. “Okay,” he muttered. “All right, I’m on it. Immediately.” He cleared his throat. “This room is now off-limits to anyone. We’ll need to move you all out of here.”
    “Wally, why?” Cissy asked.
    “What’s going on?” Sophie asked, moving toward Cissy.
    Wally adjusted his uniform tie, then surveyed the group, his gaze settling on Francis. “I’m sorry, Frank,” he said, his tone grave. “Your mother didn’t make it. She’s dead.” He paused, and his glance took them all in. “Until we figure out why, I have to secure this scene for the detectives and the forensic investigators.”

Chapter 5
    “D ead?” Francis paled and staggered back. “Impossible!” His voice sounded thin and raspy.
    “No!” Florence screeched, her pouchy eyes wide.
    “What did it?” Sophie asked Wally, who was watching them all with squinted eyes. “Did she have a heart attack? Or . . . how did she . . . ? I don’t understand, Wally.”
    “All of you will have to . . .” He paused and looked around. “Let’s go next door. Sophie, can we go over to Auntie Rose’s?”
    “Why?”
    “We need to vacate this place, but I don’t want folks to go too far,” he said, raising his voice over the