Read Online A Rip Roaring Good Time by Jeanne Glidewell - Free Book Online
Authors: Jeanne Glidewell
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current crime scene had put Lexie at the top of their suspects list.
Rather than stand there like I was super-glued to the floor, I decided to join Georgia at the buffet table to help her clear off the food and serving paraphernalia. She was standing behind the table, appearing as dazed and confused as everyone else in the room. I watched Stone walk over to her woodenly. He handed her a check, which she reluctantly took. She glanced at the check and attempted to hand it back to him. Stone backed away, shaking his head fervently. Georgia eventually gave in, nodded her thanks, folded the check in half and stuffed it in her back pocket, then began putting the aluminum lids back on the serving containers.
When I approached her and asked if I could assist, she looked pale and unsteady. I pulled a chair up behind her and had her sit down until she regained her composure. She thanked me and mumbled that it didn't seem right to accept payment for a meal that was never going to be served. And now she had to decide what to do with all the food she'd brought.
Lexie was still in a state of shock, as was evident by the "deer in the headlights" expression on her face. At that point, she was in no condition to make any kind of decision regarding the food, and I didn't feel it was mine to make. I told Georgia to speak to Stone again about the issue when she got the opportunity, but in the meantime we might as well pack it all back up so it wouldn't go completely to waste. If it had been up to me, I'd have donated the food to the local mission that served meals to the homeless and underprivileged where it'd be very appreciated.
I helped Georgia load the trays of food into the rear of her van. She told me that Lori had forgotten the sourdough bread and had left to retrieve it just a minute or two after Wendy and Andy's arrival. For what purpose would the sourdough bread be needed at this point? I was wondering. Did Lori truly believe the party would go on as planned despite the bloody corpse on the dance floor?
When I re-entered the parlor from the kitchen, I came up behind the makeshift curtain blocking the guests' view of the body. I couldn't help but look at Trotter Hayes. His face was waxy-looking, almost translucent. He looked like a mannequin that had been knocked over at Macy's. When I saw the coroner nonchalantly stab a thermometer into the boy's abdomen, presumably his liver, I was glad I hadn't already eaten supper. I quickly retreated to a far corner of the room.
From there I watched Alice Runcan, the young lady who had spoken briefly to Mattie earlier, stand up and approach a tall, blond-haired detective. The officer appeared to be in charge of the investigating team as they carefully surveyed the scene and gathered evidence. The entire team wore latex gloves as they placed the items into clear plastic bags. Alice smiled in a very flirtatious manner as she showed the handsome detective something on the front of her cell phone. I don't know if it was her phone number, a photo of her flashing her breasts, or what. But judging by the provocative manner in which Alice was licking her lips and tossing her hair over her shoulder, not to mention the way the detective was practically drooling on her phone, I was guessing it was, at the very least, a photo of her winning a wet t-shirt contest.
The detective looked at the photo and began licking his lips as well. He took the phone out of the gal's hand to study it intently, smiling all the while. Yep! Definitely a booby shot of some type. If my instincts were correct, it was very inappropriate for the situation.
Then I looked across the room at the young man who had accompanied Alice Runcan to the party. I observed the stormy glare he was projecting across the room toward his date. Could the entire seductive scene have been played out by Alice to make her date jealous or to get under his skin for some reason? If so, her ploy was definitely working because her date looked absolutely
Rather than stand there like I was super-glued to the floor, I decided to join Georgia at the buffet table to help her clear off the food and serving paraphernalia. She was standing behind the table, appearing as dazed and confused as everyone else in the room. I watched Stone walk over to her woodenly. He handed her a check, which she reluctantly took. She glanced at the check and attempted to hand it back to him. Stone backed away, shaking his head fervently. Georgia eventually gave in, nodded her thanks, folded the check in half and stuffed it in her back pocket, then began putting the aluminum lids back on the serving containers.
When I approached her and asked if I could assist, she looked pale and unsteady. I pulled a chair up behind her and had her sit down until she regained her composure. She thanked me and mumbled that it didn't seem right to accept payment for a meal that was never going to be served. And now she had to decide what to do with all the food she'd brought.
Lexie was still in a state of shock, as was evident by the "deer in the headlights" expression on her face. At that point, she was in no condition to make any kind of decision regarding the food, and I didn't feel it was mine to make. I told Georgia to speak to Stone again about the issue when she got the opportunity, but in the meantime we might as well pack it all back up so it wouldn't go completely to waste. If it had been up to me, I'd have donated the food to the local mission that served meals to the homeless and underprivileged where it'd be very appreciated.
I helped Georgia load the trays of food into the rear of her van. She told me that Lori had forgotten the sourdough bread and had left to retrieve it just a minute or two after Wendy and Andy's arrival. For what purpose would the sourdough bread be needed at this point? I was wondering. Did Lori truly believe the party would go on as planned despite the bloody corpse on the dance floor?
When I re-entered the parlor from the kitchen, I came up behind the makeshift curtain blocking the guests' view of the body. I couldn't help but look at Trotter Hayes. His face was waxy-looking, almost translucent. He looked like a mannequin that had been knocked over at Macy's. When I saw the coroner nonchalantly stab a thermometer into the boy's abdomen, presumably his liver, I was glad I hadn't already eaten supper. I quickly retreated to a far corner of the room.
From there I watched Alice Runcan, the young lady who had spoken briefly to Mattie earlier, stand up and approach a tall, blond-haired detective. The officer appeared to be in charge of the investigating team as they carefully surveyed the scene and gathered evidence. The entire team wore latex gloves as they placed the items into clear plastic bags. Alice smiled in a very flirtatious manner as she showed the handsome detective something on the front of her cell phone. I don't know if it was her phone number, a photo of her flashing her breasts, or what. But judging by the provocative manner in which Alice was licking her lips and tossing her hair over her shoulder, not to mention the way the detective was practically drooling on her phone, I was guessing it was, at the very least, a photo of her winning a wet t-shirt contest.
The detective looked at the photo and began licking his lips as well. He took the phone out of the gal's hand to study it intently, smiling all the while. Yep! Definitely a booby shot of some type. If my instincts were correct, it was very inappropriate for the situation.
Then I looked across the room at the young man who had accompanied Alice Runcan to the party. I observed the stormy glare he was projecting across the room toward his date. Could the entire seductive scene have been played out by Alice to make her date jealous or to get under his skin for some reason? If so, her ploy was definitely working because her date looked absolutely
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