Read Online Margaritas & Murder by Jessica Fletcher - Free Book Online Page B

brother every now and then.”
    “Only when he’s traveling. Otherwise he calls us on his cell phone.”
    “Well, we get other mail.”
    “I’m looking forward to the trip,” Vaughan said. “Kind of like being with the Pony Express, riding across the range to deliver the mail. Besides, I had my secretary open a post office box for me in Laredo. There should be a manuscript waiting, and I don’t want to miss that.”
    His companions laughed. “Didn’t take you long to learn the way of things,” Woody said. “Reminds me of a story when I was stationed at Fort Bliss.”
    “No, Woody, spare us,” Sarah said in mock dramatic fashion, the back of her hand on her brow.
    “Well, if you don’t want to hear it . . .” He was clearly offended.
    “Save it for tomorrow,” Vaughan said. “We’re going to need stories to entertain each other on the long ride, and telling them will keep you awake. I don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.”
    “Aren’t you going to spell him with the driving?” I asked Vaughan.
    “He can’t drive my car,” Woody said.
    “Does he need a Mexican driver’s license?”
    “It’s not as easy as that. It’s the Mexican laws. They don’t want anyone outside your family driving your car. If we got caught with Vaughan driving, they’d take my car away. Permanently.”
    “That’s awful,” I said.
    “It would be no loss with that old junker you have. Did you get the radio fixed yet?” Sarah asked Woody.
    “I’ll have you know that junker, as you call it, has over a hundred thousand miles and still gets twenty miles to the gallon. It’s in great shape—no rust, tires are good, engine’s completely rebuilt. There’s just a few little quirks, like the radio.”
    “I rest my case,” she said, rising and waving at us. “I’m going to get some dinner. Vaughan? Join me?”
    Vaughan got to his feet. “Thanks. I’m not hungry right now. I’ll have something later,” he said.
    Sarah looped her index finger in the gap between buttons on Vaughan’s shirt. “I’ll just have to find you later,” she said. “I’m hungry now.”
    It was the first time I’d ever seen Vaughan blush. He was always cool and in control, but evidently Sarah’s brazen flirting made him uneasy.
    “My gallery opening is in three days,” she said. “Actually three nights. I hope you’ll be home in time for it, but if not, you can come to my studio and I’ll show you what you missed.”
    Vaughan cleared his throat. “I’m not sure of our schedule,” he said, “but in any case Woody and I have to check out his vehicle before we take off. Right, Woody? Would you all excuse us, please.”
    Woody took the hint and lumbered out of his chair.
    “I take it they’re not an item anymore?” Roberto said when the others left.
    “Woody didn’t show up at her last opening, so she dumped him,” Dina said. “She’s too young for him anyway.”
    “Why don’t we follow Sarah to the buffet?” I said. “We can come back and talk over dinner.”
    While we’d been chatting, the caterers had set up tables across from the colonnade. The Fishers took plates and joined the line that had formed, and I fell in behind them. The guests at the party were a convivial group, chatting and laughing in knots of three or four. Most of the men wore guayaberas, like Roberto’s, and the women were casually elegant, except for obvious displays of jewelry. For the most part they appeared to be members of the expatriate community—conversation was in English—but I was happy to see that here and there were some faces that reflected the Mexican population.
    It struck me as strange that people would move to a foreign country and make no effort to become part of the greater community, shunning the local residents and instead forging a miniature version of what they’d left at home. What I enjoy most about visiting a country—or any new place, for that matter—is meeting the people, learning about the culture, and