Read Online Alex Harris 00 - Poisoned by Elaine Macko - Free Book Online Page A

when was later? It had always intrigued me from the time I was little and my mother would say we’re going later , or, we’ll have that later . How did mothers know when later had arrived?
    “Boo! What were you thinking about? You’re always off somewhere on a cloud lately.”
    “Sorry. I didn’t hear you arrive,” I said to my sister. “Where’s Michael?” I asked referring to Sam’s husband.
    Sam took off her short denim jacket and hung it on the hook behind the kitchen door. “In the living room with John and Mom and Dad. What are you thinking about?”
    “Just wondering if it would do any good to ask for a piece of this cake right now.”
    “Later. Now come on, tell me what’s going on with the investigation?”
    I walked to the door leading to the hall. “Good. Just checking on John. There’s not much to report yet except John thinks Mrs. Brissart might have been the intended victim.”
    Sam leaned closer. “Really? Why?”
    “I don’t know. We never got that far. Mrs. Brissart’s son and his wife, Bradley’s parents, arrived, and we didn’t get a chance to talk more about it.”
    “Have you met any of the family yet?”
    “No. Not to talk with anyway.”
    “When do you think you’ll be starting your investigation?”
    I looked aghast and had the decency to put my hand to my chest. “What makes you think I’ll be investigating?”
    “Because you’re dying to get your nose in the middle of everything.”
    I gave my sister a sly smile and grabbed onto the sleeve of Sam’s purple turtleneck sweater. “You’re right and if John thinks Mrs. Brissart was the intended victim then I better not waste any more time.”
    “Why?”
    “Because if someone wanted to kill her and didn’t do it right the first time, I’m sure they’ll try again.”
    “Girls! Come, let’s get started,” Mom shouted from the other room. We would always be girls to our mother even when we hit our nineties.
    “Just make sure you keep me up to date on any new developments,” Sam whispered as she followed me into the living room.
    The Harris family had been brought up on games. Meme was a big card player, and even though my mom worked most of her life and had a family, she always made time for a game of cards or, better yet, Scrabble.
    “This is what I thought we would do tonight,” Mom said, taking charge. “Instead of playing the actual game and trying to get the different color pie pieces, I thought we would pair up into two teams. We’ll have one minute to answer and each correct answer gets a point. Every time you miss a question, you lose one point. The first team to reach twenty points wins.”
    “Wins what?” Michael asked.
    “Nothing. Just wins . Isn’t that enough?” Mom asked in a totally bewildered tone.
    “You all know what your mother’s like,” Dad said.
    Mom did love to win.
    We split into teams—the men against the women. This ought to be interesting.
    We three women sat on the sofa with the three gentlemen seated on the other side of the coffee table; Dad and Michael on chairs and John sitting on the floor, his long legs stretched out. Sam sat very close to the samosas and I kept a good eye on my sister along with the dwindling number of little meat pastries on the plate. I reached past her and grabbed a couple.
    The room was bathed in soft lights from the various lamps scattered about and the glow of the fireplace right behind the men. Several lovely well-framed watercolors from various trips my parents had taken hung on the walls along with an assortment of ink drawings. I loved this room. I used to like to get comfortable on the sofa with a good book and a cup of tea while snow fell outside. I still do that, but now I do it at my place.
    My mom decided that being women, we would go first. Dad shook his head, John laughed, and Michael asked what that had to do with anything. Sam told him to hush and my father read the first question to us.
    The game proceeded for another hour and then