Read Online Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 03 - Paint Me a Murder by Darlene Franklin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Darlene Franklin
Ads: Link
realize the treasure he had in Finella. Not a finer woman walked God’s green earth.” The inconsistency of his remarks didn’t bother him, and his shoulders started shaking when he poured tea into the glasses. “Oh, Fin.”
The moment had become too personal, and I decided to leave. “I can see I came at a bad time. I’ll talk with you later.” I headed for the door, but Jessie followed me to the carport.
“There’s something I want you to know.” Jessie whispered, glancing over her shoulder as if afraid Ham could hear her. “Ham was with me all Tuesday morning. You saw us, there at the mayor’s conference. He couldn’t possibly have killed poor Finella.” She dashed back into the house.
I drove the few blocks home in thoughtful silence. So Jessie was providing Ham with an alibi. Soon I arrived at my sanctuary, the home I had purchased in a gesture of independence from family expectations. Audie had loved it as much as I did and wanted us to live there after our marriage. Even Gilda’s presence couldn’t undo the frisson of pleasure I received when I pulled into the driveway.
Gilda had fixed beef stew and cornbread tonight. Why was she using the oven and heating up the kitchen? Maybe she hadn’t learned to resort to stove-top cooking during the summer months up in Chicago. Still, it smelled absolutely wonderful.
“You paid a condolence call on the victim’s ex-husband? Didn’t you say he abused her?” Gilda ladled stew into a bowl and blinked. “Is that the way things are done here in Oklahoma?” From her tone, she couldn’t believe it.
Audie looked at me out of the corner of his eye. How much did Gilda know about my history as an amateur sleuth?
“Well, no, that’s not why I went. I wanted to show Jessie photos of her great-grandmother Lizzie’s clothing. She wants me to sew a reproduction for Land Run Days.” I confess that I felt a little bit smug.
“You were snooping around again, weren’t you?” She added Olympus-sized pieces of cornbread to the bowls of stew.
That answered my question. Did Gilda approve of such behavior in her daughter-in-law? It didn’t sound like it. “Snooping” wasn’t a positive word. I pretended I hadn’t noticed her.
“I didn’t have to. All I did was mention Finella, and Ham blabbed about how much he loved her and how Brad would never marry her and he wasn’t worthy to tie her shoe laces. Then he started crying. It was kind of embarrassing.”
“Hah. Tears don’t prove anything. Abusers always apologize afterward.” Gilda’s eyes took on a faraway look as if she were speaking from personal knowledge.
Had Audie’s father—or perhaps his grandfather—abused my mother-in-law in some way?
“I volunteer at a battered women’s shelter,” Gilda said. “You wouldn’t believe how many women go back to an abusive partner after they say they’re sorry and they’ll never do it again. But of course they do.”
I couldn’t imagine my overly-critical mother-in-law offering comfort to people in crisis. Maybe she helped out in other ways.
“At least Finella tried to get away.” Audie ran a chunk of his cornbread around the edge of his bowl and ladled out some more stew. If Gilda stayed too long, he’d need to buy a new wardrobe.
“Poor woman.” Gilda said with empathy. “I understand you like to investigate things, but this Ham sounds like a dangerous man. You should stay away from him.”
I knew it. She wants me to stop. Her opposition only served to stiffen my resolve.
Audie said grace, and Gilda poured us each a glass of extra dark tea. I took a sip and couldn’t hide my gag. “That’s coffee.”
“It’s decaf. I wouldn’t serve you anything bad for the baby.”
“Iced coffee?” I sputtered.
“I thought it would make a nice change. People here seem to drink sweetened tea all day long.”
Yes, and I wish I had some right now . “How—interesting.” At least I enjoyed the stew. She had cooked the meat in some kind of
The moment had become too personal, and I decided to leave. “I can see I came at a bad time. I’ll talk with you later.” I headed for the door, but Jessie followed me to the carport.
“There’s something I want you to know.” Jessie whispered, glancing over her shoulder as if afraid Ham could hear her. “Ham was with me all Tuesday morning. You saw us, there at the mayor’s conference. He couldn’t possibly have killed poor Finella.” She dashed back into the house.
I drove the few blocks home in thoughtful silence. So Jessie was providing Ham with an alibi. Soon I arrived at my sanctuary, the home I had purchased in a gesture of independence from family expectations. Audie had loved it as much as I did and wanted us to live there after our marriage. Even Gilda’s presence couldn’t undo the frisson of pleasure I received when I pulled into the driveway.
Gilda had fixed beef stew and cornbread tonight. Why was she using the oven and heating up the kitchen? Maybe she hadn’t learned to resort to stove-top cooking during the summer months up in Chicago. Still, it smelled absolutely wonderful.
“You paid a condolence call on the victim’s ex-husband? Didn’t you say he abused her?” Gilda ladled stew into a bowl and blinked. “Is that the way things are done here in Oklahoma?” From her tone, she couldn’t believe it.
Audie looked at me out of the corner of his eye. How much did Gilda know about my history as an amateur sleuth?
“Well, no, that’s not why I went. I wanted to show Jessie photos of her great-grandmother Lizzie’s clothing. She wants me to sew a reproduction for Land Run Days.” I confess that I felt a little bit smug.
“You were snooping around again, weren’t you?” She added Olympus-sized pieces of cornbread to the bowls of stew.
That answered my question. Did Gilda approve of such behavior in her daughter-in-law? It didn’t sound like it. “Snooping” wasn’t a positive word. I pretended I hadn’t noticed her.
“I didn’t have to. All I did was mention Finella, and Ham blabbed about how much he loved her and how Brad would never marry her and he wasn’t worthy to tie her shoe laces. Then he started crying. It was kind of embarrassing.”
“Hah. Tears don’t prove anything. Abusers always apologize afterward.” Gilda’s eyes took on a faraway look as if she were speaking from personal knowledge.
Had Audie’s father—or perhaps his grandfather—abused my mother-in-law in some way?
“I volunteer at a battered women’s shelter,” Gilda said. “You wouldn’t believe how many women go back to an abusive partner after they say they’re sorry and they’ll never do it again. But of course they do.”
I couldn’t imagine my overly-critical mother-in-law offering comfort to people in crisis. Maybe she helped out in other ways.
“At least Finella tried to get away.” Audie ran a chunk of his cornbread around the edge of his bowl and ladled out some more stew. If Gilda stayed too long, he’d need to buy a new wardrobe.
“Poor woman.” Gilda said with empathy. “I understand you like to investigate things, but this Ham sounds like a dangerous man. You should stay away from him.”
I knew it. She wants me to stop. Her opposition only served to stiffen my resolve.
Audie said grace, and Gilda poured us each a glass of extra dark tea. I took a sip and couldn’t hide my gag. “That’s coffee.”
“It’s decaf. I wouldn’t serve you anything bad for the baby.”
“Iced coffee?” I sputtered.
“I thought it would make a nice change. People here seem to drink sweetened tea all day long.”
Yes, and I wish I had some right now . “How—interesting.” At least I enjoyed the stew. She had cooked the meat in some kind of
Similar Books
