Read Online Death Tidies Up by Barbara Colley - Free Book Online Page A

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked purposefully toward the kitchen.
    The moment she stepped inside the kitchen, the wonderful aroma of French bread warming in the oven assailed her. Bread of any kind was her Achilles’ heel, but she especially loved fresh French bread.
    The kitchen itself was neat and orderly, and she noted that Louis had already set the table, complete with place mats, matching napkins, silverware, and beautiful china.
    Would wonders never cease? she thought. And what a contradiction. Never in a million years would she have guessed that the gruff detective could be so…so civilized.
    While Louis busied himself taking the bread out of the oven, Charlotte seated herself at the table and tried to think of some safe, neutral topic that would end the strained silence between them.
    â€œThese dishes are beautiful,” she ventured. “I’ve always loved this particular rose pattern.”
    His only reaction was a dismissive shrug and what sounded like a grunt.
    What now? she wondered, glaring at his back. With a sigh of impatience, she glanced around the room. Then she saw it. Stacked haphazardly on the countertop, near the back door, she spied what she hoped would be just the thing to end the awkward tension between them.
    â€œAre those the carpet and tile samples you mentioned earlier?”
    When he finally glanced over his shoulder, she tilted her head toward the countertop.
    â€œYeah, they are,” he answered.
    â€œMind if I look through them? I’ve been thinking about doing some renovations,” she quickly added, since she certainly didn’t want him to think that she was being nosy…again.
    â€œActually—” He slipped the hot bread into a small wicker basket. “I had an ulterior motive for inviting you to supper. I was hoping I could persuade you to give me some pointers. I figured that since you’ve been in so many different houses, you’d know which types of tiles or carpet were the best to use, and which types require the least amount of upkeep.”
    Feeling as if she were walking on eggshells, Charlotte ventured a small smile. “Ah-ha! The truth finally comes out. So that’s why I get a free meal.”
    Her ploy to ease the tension worked like a charm. The strained look on his face faded.
    â€œAfter we eat, though,” he said as he brought the basket to the table and set it down near the edge. “Sorry I don’t have a salad, and I thought we’d just serve ourselves from the pot if that’s okay with you.”
    â€œHey, I’m for whatever is easiest,” she told him.
    At the stove, Charlotte spooned a generous helping of rice into her bowl. The gumbo was a dark, rich color, and as she ladled it over the rice, she noted that it was chock-full of shrimp and crabmeat. “This looks delicious,” she commented.
    Seated back at the table, Charlotte helped herself to the bread. Still warm from the oven, the bread was exactly how she liked it, crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside.
    When Louis finally joined her, he brought her a glass of ice water, along with his own bowl of rice and gumbo.
    â€œSo—why were you so late getting home?”
    It was a good thing that Louis’ question caught her with a mouthful of bread. Otherwise she might have been tempted to tell him that it was none of his business and let him see how it felt.
    But getting back at someone was not her way, and she had always tried her best to live by the golden rule. Besides, since he’d asked, why not take advantage of the situation? Why not tell him what she’d discovered at the Devilier house. That way she could get his reaction without really asking for his advice after all.
    Charlotte finally swallowed the bread. “You know that old Devilier house that’s been renovated into apartments?”
    He looked up and his expression grew hard. “Yeah. What about it?”
    Though she