Read Online Arsenic and Old Cake by Jacklyn Brady - Free Book Online Page B

Monroe Magee? How likely would he be to talk with us? How would I get him to show me that birthmark if, in fact, he had one? And how would Hyacinth and Primrose react if they caught us lying?
    Maybe this wasn’t the only way or even the best way to find out what Monroe Magee was up to, but we were here and I was determined not to go back to Old Dog Leg empty-handed. Our success or failure now hinged on whether Gabriel and I could successfully maintain the facade that we were a couple of besotted honeymooners. I had experience on my side. At least I’d actually been on a honeymoon. But Gabriel had enthusiasm on his. He was having much more fun than I was.
    “Remember,” I whispered as we took the last few stairs, “we’re in love. We can hardly stand to be apart. You worship me. You think everything I do is adorable and nothing I do irritates you.”
    He nodded and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “The feeling is mutual, I assume?”
    “Of course it is . . . darling. Just don’t overdo it, please.”
    Gabriel put an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “Overdo? Me?”
    “It’s been ten seconds,” I pointed out, “and already you’ve proved my point.” I put both hands on his chest and applied gentle pressure. “This is not an open invitation, however.”
    Gabriel nuzzled my neck again and flashed a wicked grin when I stiffened under the brush of warm lips against my skin. “Will you please stop worrying?” he whispered. “Relax and have fun.”
    “We’re not here to have fun,” I reminded him. “We’re here to do a favor for a friend.”
    “We’re not saving the world, my love.”
    I frowned and pulled away. “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough. We might just be saving Dog Leg’s world, and I can’t concentrate when you do that.”
    Gabriel let out a long-suffering sigh, but the twinkle in his eye told me he was enjoying my discomfort. “All right,” he said. “You win. I’ll be serious and subdued. Will that make you happy?”
    “Delirious.”
    “Good.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Then stop frowning.”
    “I’m not frowning,” I whispered back. “I’m worshiping you with my eyes.”
    “Ah. That’s what that is. Good to know.” His grin came back and he pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, and then we walked into the parlor wrapped around each other like kudzu vines.
    We found three old men sitting in the parlor with Hyacinth and Primrose, all chatting softly. One short and wrinkled, one tall and thin wearing a black suit that had clearly seen better days, and the third an enormous man who spread across half the couch. The two young couples I’d spotted earlier were talking to each other in one corner.
    I scoured the men’s faces, searching for a resemblance to Old Dog Leg. Each looked about the right age, and all three were African American, but none of them bore any real similarities to my friend that I could see. I didn’t feel discouraged, though. I hadn’t expected to find Old Dog Leg’s clone.
    The short wiry man, who had more wrinkles than a basset hound, spotted us first as we came through the door. He signaled the others with a jerk of his chin, and they fell silent so abruptly, I figured they must have been talking about us.
    Primrose bounded to her feet like a woman half her age and advanced on us with her scrawny arms held wide. “Here they are!” she cried. “Our newest happy couple.” She hugged us both briefly, then took each of us by the hand and tugged us toward the small group of senior citizens, all of whom were watching us as if they suspected we were up to no good.
    Which, of course, we were.
    I flashed my most trustworthy smile. Gabriel grinned like a used-car salesman who’d just spotted an easy mark. I would have elbowed him in the ribs, but Primrose stood between us, still clutching our hands tightly.
    “Y’all get on your feet,” she ordered. “We’re toasting Gabriel and Rita Broussard, who were