Read Online Hark! The Herald Angel Screamed: An Augusta Goodnight Mystery (with Heavenly Recipes) by Mignon F. Ballard - Free Book Online
Authors: Mignon F. Ballard
Ads: Link
flashing gold and amber in the fire’s light.
“You mean like the scuttling sound you heard?” I said. “No, but there must’ve been an army of mice in there! The whole place is a mess! Mimmer would just be sick if she knew.”
“Well, she doesn’t know, so don’t worry on her account, but it is a shame to see a fine old home go to ruin.” Augusta rose to check the macaroni and cheese she had made for supper and I followed to pop some corn for the tree. I’m hard put to come up with something to serve my daughter-in-law, Jessica, since she’s a vegetarian and won’t even indulge in an innocent hamburger now and then. Thank goodness she isn’t one of those people who won’t eat any animal products or I’d really be in a bind.
Corn popped in the microwave while Augusta sprinkled nutmeg over a bowl of homemade applesauce and I put together ingredients for a green salad. Supper was ready to serve and the two of us already had a good start on stringing the popcorn when Teddy burst in the back door and threw himself down to wallow with Clementine on the kitchen rug. Augusta, as usual, disappeared from view.
“Give Clementine a hug and then hurry and wash your hands. Supper’s ready,” I told him, knowing his mother would probably haul out the antiseptic wipes if she saw the dog licking Teddy in the face. Jessica has become adjusted to having Clementine around, but she’s still having a problem with doggy hair, doggy slobber, and what she imagines to be doggy germs.
Roger waited until Teddy and his mother were stringing popcorn for the tree after supper before bringing up the subject of the unfortunate incident at Willowbrook. Augusta and I had been baking that week and now he snatched a Santa-shaped cookie and bit off its head as I arranged them on a platter. Jessica doesn’t serve sweets in their home but I think she’s finally given up on mine.
“So, Mom,” he began, reaching for another, “you seem to be starting off the holly-jolly season with a bang—or should I say, a thud? Have you developed some kind of sinister detector that leads you to dead bodies? I’m beginning to wonder if it’s safe for you to be about! Should we hire a bodyguard?”
Now, I’m proud of my son and love him all to pieces, but since he’s been made chair of the History Department at Sarah Bedford, our local college, he’s gotten obnoxiously bossy. I chose that moment to tell him so. “Look,” I said, “the man was already dead when we found him. I doubt very much if he picked that morning to jump or fall or whatever from the balcony just because I was in the vicinity.” (I didn’t dare mention the notion that he might have been pushed!)
“Well, something’s going on out there, and I hope you and Aunt Ellis will have the good sense to stay out of it. Let Cousin Grayson worry about it. After all, it’s his house.” Roger stood to clear the table while I scraped dishes at the sink. Ellis is the closest thing to an aunt my two will ever have since neither Charlie nor I had any sisters and my brother can’t seem to stay married. “Preacher Dave seems to think the guy might’ve been a homeless person who probably had too much to drink,” he said, stacking glasses on top of plates until they leaned precariously, “and I can’t get a word out of Ed down at the Police Department.”
Ed Tillman and Roger had been friends since kindergarten and I knew him well enough to know he could clam up tighter than a miser’s purse. I wasn’t having any better luck with my friend Kemper Mungo.
“Maybe he doesn’t have anything to tell,” I said, rescuing the tottering stack, “but if I learn anything, I promise I’ll let you know.”
“Just promise you’ll stay away from there.” He brushed my cheek with a kiss. “I worry about you, you know.”
“I know,” I said, giving his arm a damp pat. There was no way Iwas going to tell him about our experiences at Willowbrook that morning. I just hoped I could count
“You mean like the scuttling sound you heard?” I said. “No, but there must’ve been an army of mice in there! The whole place is a mess! Mimmer would just be sick if she knew.”
“Well, she doesn’t know, so don’t worry on her account, but it is a shame to see a fine old home go to ruin.” Augusta rose to check the macaroni and cheese she had made for supper and I followed to pop some corn for the tree. I’m hard put to come up with something to serve my daughter-in-law, Jessica, since she’s a vegetarian and won’t even indulge in an innocent hamburger now and then. Thank goodness she isn’t one of those people who won’t eat any animal products or I’d really be in a bind.
Corn popped in the microwave while Augusta sprinkled nutmeg over a bowl of homemade applesauce and I put together ingredients for a green salad. Supper was ready to serve and the two of us already had a good start on stringing the popcorn when Teddy burst in the back door and threw himself down to wallow with Clementine on the kitchen rug. Augusta, as usual, disappeared from view.
“Give Clementine a hug and then hurry and wash your hands. Supper’s ready,” I told him, knowing his mother would probably haul out the antiseptic wipes if she saw the dog licking Teddy in the face. Jessica has become adjusted to having Clementine around, but she’s still having a problem with doggy hair, doggy slobber, and what she imagines to be doggy germs.
Roger waited until Teddy and his mother were stringing popcorn for the tree after supper before bringing up the subject of the unfortunate incident at Willowbrook. Augusta and I had been baking that week and now he snatched a Santa-shaped cookie and bit off its head as I arranged them on a platter. Jessica doesn’t serve sweets in their home but I think she’s finally given up on mine.
“So, Mom,” he began, reaching for another, “you seem to be starting off the holly-jolly season with a bang—or should I say, a thud? Have you developed some kind of sinister detector that leads you to dead bodies? I’m beginning to wonder if it’s safe for you to be about! Should we hire a bodyguard?”
Now, I’m proud of my son and love him all to pieces, but since he’s been made chair of the History Department at Sarah Bedford, our local college, he’s gotten obnoxiously bossy. I chose that moment to tell him so. “Look,” I said, “the man was already dead when we found him. I doubt very much if he picked that morning to jump or fall or whatever from the balcony just because I was in the vicinity.” (I didn’t dare mention the notion that he might have been pushed!)
“Well, something’s going on out there, and I hope you and Aunt Ellis will have the good sense to stay out of it. Let Cousin Grayson worry about it. After all, it’s his house.” Roger stood to clear the table while I scraped dishes at the sink. Ellis is the closest thing to an aunt my two will ever have since neither Charlie nor I had any sisters and my brother can’t seem to stay married. “Preacher Dave seems to think the guy might’ve been a homeless person who probably had too much to drink,” he said, stacking glasses on top of plates until they leaned precariously, “and I can’t get a word out of Ed down at the Police Department.”
Ed Tillman and Roger had been friends since kindergarten and I knew him well enough to know he could clam up tighter than a miser’s purse. I wasn’t having any better luck with my friend Kemper Mungo.
“Maybe he doesn’t have anything to tell,” I said, rescuing the tottering stack, “but if I learn anything, I promise I’ll let you know.”
“Just promise you’ll stay away from there.” He brushed my cheek with a kiss. “I worry about you, you know.”
“I know,” I said, giving his arm a damp pat. There was no way Iwas going to tell him about our experiences at Willowbrook that morning. I just hoped I could count
Similar Books
