Read Online Fete Worse Than Death (9781101595138) by Claudia Bishop - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Claudia Bishop
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months, too!”
“Quill!”
Quill released her hair and sat up. “I know. You’re right. I’m jumping the gun. I’m theorizing ahead of the facts. You just wait. I’ll get Marge to dig into her background and we’ll get that money back.”
The computer screen was high res, and it didn’t obscure Myles’s slight frown.
“Don’t worry. I’m not getting involved with anything like murder. I promised, remember? But I’ve got to find out who took that money. If I don’t—I’m chair of the fete steering committee.”
“I’ve said it before so I don’t need to say it again.”
“Leave it to the professionals. Right. I will. Don’t worry. I’ll just make a few…inquiries. We have an emergency meeting of the committee tomorrow morning to decide what to do next.” She sighed. “Let’s leave it for themoment. How are you doing? Did you get the photos of Jack I sent in his bath tonight? I wish we didn’t have to talk so late at night. You never get a chance to actually see him.”
He held up his phone. “Received and stored. And the move back to the Inn went smoothly?”
“It did. We’ve got a lot of practice switching back and forth from the house to here. Mike brings the van and I’ve got it down to less than an hour.” Suddenly, she felt tears at the back of her eyes. “I wish. Never mind. I love you, Myles. Stay safe.”
5
The fete committee members had agreed that an early breakfast meeting was in order in view of the crisis.
Quill’s office was small, but her Queen Anne conference table seated four and could accommodate coffee and small plates so at nine sharp, she sat down with Althea, Dookie, and a very haggard Elmer Henry.
“My dear, dear man.” Althea Quince patted Elmer heartily on the back. “We will get to the bottom of this. Don’t fear for a moment that we will fail.”
Althea had a very loud voice. And it was hoarse. From years, she admitted, of smoking too many Gauloises in too many corners of Paris. She and her husband Nolan were retired from the food brokerage business, and it had taken them all around the world in pursuit of exotic and interesting foods.
Quill mentally categorized Althea’s manner of dress as floaty. She swathed herself in long, gauzy, vividly colored scarves. She had a penchant for dangling earrings in various exotic designs. She reminded Quill of an African parrot, one of the brilliantly plumaged kinds.
She also wore a lot of Chanel No. 5, and the scentwafted through the air every time she gestured. “Your dear wife is innocent of any malefaction. I’m as certain of this as I am of anything on this earth…or”—this with a gracious nod in Dookie’s direction—“the next, if you forgive me, Reverend Shuttleworth.”
Dookie blinked mildly at her. “None of us are certain of the next world, Mrs. Quince. We can only have faith. But I, too, believe in Adela’s innocence. I’m sure that all will be explained in time.”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Elmer said in a very low voice. “None of this. It’s like what they say about nightmares. I’m in one. I just can’t b’live it. You heard about this Citizens for Justice gang?”
Althea clucked in sympathy.
“Bunch of yahoos,” Elmer muttered. “Out to get my wife. It’s a nightmare. A nightmare.” He moved restlessly in his chair. Nobody ever called Elmer well dressed, but Adela always made sure that his button-down cotton shirts were neatly ironed, and he was never without a sports coat and tie. Today he was in a golf shirt, rumpled chinos, and his socks didn’t match.
Quill sat up a little straighter in her chair. “I suppose we should call this meeting to order.” Then with a hopeless optimism, “In Adela’s absence, which I’m sure will be temporary, would anyone like to take the chair?”
Althea smiled, showing strong white teeth. “Wouldn’t be appropriate for a flat land foreigner, my dear.”
Dookie blushed and looked at his feet.
Elmer looked
“Quill!”
Quill released her hair and sat up. “I know. You’re right. I’m jumping the gun. I’m theorizing ahead of the facts. You just wait. I’ll get Marge to dig into her background and we’ll get that money back.”
The computer screen was high res, and it didn’t obscure Myles’s slight frown.
“Don’t worry. I’m not getting involved with anything like murder. I promised, remember? But I’ve got to find out who took that money. If I don’t—I’m chair of the fete steering committee.”
“I’ve said it before so I don’t need to say it again.”
“Leave it to the professionals. Right. I will. Don’t worry. I’ll just make a few…inquiries. We have an emergency meeting of the committee tomorrow morning to decide what to do next.” She sighed. “Let’s leave it for themoment. How are you doing? Did you get the photos of Jack I sent in his bath tonight? I wish we didn’t have to talk so late at night. You never get a chance to actually see him.”
He held up his phone. “Received and stored. And the move back to the Inn went smoothly?”
“It did. We’ve got a lot of practice switching back and forth from the house to here. Mike brings the van and I’ve got it down to less than an hour.” Suddenly, she felt tears at the back of her eyes. “I wish. Never mind. I love you, Myles. Stay safe.”
5
The fete committee members had agreed that an early breakfast meeting was in order in view of the crisis.
Quill’s office was small, but her Queen Anne conference table seated four and could accommodate coffee and small plates so at nine sharp, she sat down with Althea, Dookie, and a very haggard Elmer Henry.
“My dear, dear man.” Althea Quince patted Elmer heartily on the back. “We will get to the bottom of this. Don’t fear for a moment that we will fail.”
Althea had a very loud voice. And it was hoarse. From years, she admitted, of smoking too many Gauloises in too many corners of Paris. She and her husband Nolan were retired from the food brokerage business, and it had taken them all around the world in pursuit of exotic and interesting foods.
Quill mentally categorized Althea’s manner of dress as floaty. She swathed herself in long, gauzy, vividly colored scarves. She had a penchant for dangling earrings in various exotic designs. She reminded Quill of an African parrot, one of the brilliantly plumaged kinds.
She also wore a lot of Chanel No. 5, and the scentwafted through the air every time she gestured. “Your dear wife is innocent of any malefaction. I’m as certain of this as I am of anything on this earth…or”—this with a gracious nod in Dookie’s direction—“the next, if you forgive me, Reverend Shuttleworth.”
Dookie blinked mildly at her. “None of us are certain of the next world, Mrs. Quince. We can only have faith. But I, too, believe in Adela’s innocence. I’m sure that all will be explained in time.”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Elmer said in a very low voice. “None of this. It’s like what they say about nightmares. I’m in one. I just can’t b’live it. You heard about this Citizens for Justice gang?”
Althea clucked in sympathy.
“Bunch of yahoos,” Elmer muttered. “Out to get my wife. It’s a nightmare. A nightmare.” He moved restlessly in his chair. Nobody ever called Elmer well dressed, but Adela always made sure that his button-down cotton shirts were neatly ironed, and he was never without a sports coat and tie. Today he was in a golf shirt, rumpled chinos, and his socks didn’t match.
Quill sat up a little straighter in her chair. “I suppose we should call this meeting to order.” Then with a hopeless optimism, “In Adela’s absence, which I’m sure will be temporary, would anyone like to take the chair?”
Althea smiled, showing strong white teeth. “Wouldn’t be appropriate for a flat land foreigner, my dear.”
Dookie blushed and looked at his feet.
Elmer looked
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