Read Online Days of Wine and Roquefort (Cheese Shop Mystery) by Avery Aames - Free Book Online Page A

kill her with something as telltale as a wedding favor?” I asked. “That seems a little, how do you say it, ‘on the nose.’ He asked her to marry him. She turned him down. So he skewers her?”
    “Chief Urso.” Deputy O’Shea, our local barkeep’s handsome nephew and new hire to the police department, rapped on the garage side door. “We’re all clear in the guest room upstairs. We’ve confiscated a computer, cell phone, and address book. We can’t tell if anything else might be missing.”
    Urso turned to me. “Would you know?”
    “Not to the letter. Noelle had a briefcase, a couple of suitcases, notions, a Nikon camera, and gifts she bought at the shops in town.”
    “A gift bag is on the floor,” the deputy said. “We fanned through it. Nothing of interest. We’ve dusted for fingerprints, too.”
    I sagged. My home was officially a crime scene.
    Urso brushed my forearm. “Charlotte, are you okay?”
    No, I wasn’t. I was bummed beyond words.
    “I’m worried about you staying here,” Urso continued. “It’s a big house. You don’t have an alarm.”
    Barely anyone in town did; only our local society diva and some of her pals who were worried about the tourist
riffraff
—her term, not mine.
    “And with Jordan out of town,” Urso added.
    I tilted my head. “He doesn’t stay at my house when he’s in town.”
    Urso turned crimson. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
    “You weren’t.”
    Delilah was right. The synchronicity of Jordan leaving town at the same moment that Matthew and the twins moved out of the house had changed the way I lived life. In a matter of weeks, I had become a homebody. I probably needed to get out and see my friends more. And yet I felt strong and clear of mind, not reclusive, and I had checked five items off my to-do list. This one with Noelle . . .
    I pinched myself to remain present. “U-ey, I’m fine. Really. Besides, the killer wasn’t after me.”
    “How can you be sure?”
    I glanced at Noelle. “Because this was a personal murder, don’t you think? The killer went to Noelle’s room, specifically found that murder weapon, returned to the garage, and plunged it into her throat as if to ensure she wouldn’t talk. He . . . or she . . . wouldn’t dare come back tonight.”
    “Unless he wants to find what he didn’t find the first time,” said Matthew, who seemed steelier—steadier. “This place is a mess. He was looking for something.”
    The notion sent a shiver through me.
    Urso removed his hat and scrubbed his hair. “Noelle . . . Miss . . .”
    “Adams,” I said.
    “Miss Adams said, ‘Hell’s key.’ You’re sure?”
    I nodded.
    Matthew said, “I repeat, Noelle was cluing Charlotte in that Boyd Hellman was the killer.”
    Urso narrowed his gaze.
    “Key means vital,” Matthew continued. “Boyd was essential to something.”
    “Or she meant a physical key,” I said. “Like a house key. Did they live together, Matthew?”
    “They used to, in an apartment in Cleveland.”
    “Maybe she was trying to tell me to focus on the apartment. We should—”
    “No,” Urso snapped. “Don’t do anything. This is my investigation.”
    Here we go.
I held up my hands to appease him. “I know you will cover every angle. I was merely suggesting—”
    “Charlotte.” He clutched my upper arm; heat penetrated my sweater. “I don’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way.”
    “I take self-defense classes.”
    “Like those work.”
    In a flash, I wrenched free of Urso’s grasp simply to prove I could.
    He frowned and looked to Matthew for support.
    My cousin’s concerned face matched Urso’s. “You should listen to U-ey. I happen to know that Meredith’s self-defense classes aren’t doing her much good. I can take her down in an instant.”
    “Jordan taught me a few extra moves.” I threw a karate jab at my cousin’s shoulder. He blocked it and grabbed my wrist with his other hand, restraining me in an instant. Okay, so maybe