Read Online Mayhem Takes a Dare: The Second Marisa Adair Mystery Adventure (Marisa Adair Mysteries Book 2) by Jada Ryker - Free Book Online
Authors: Jada Ryker
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them.”
“Nancy decided she was done with him? And Martin was mad because he was the one who got to say when it was done?”
“Bert, I swear, I’m going to quit talking to you.”
“Cindy, I can only hope that you quit talking—”
“What?” Cindy was outraged.
Bert backpedalled. A loud creaking came from behind Chris. “These chairs are so uncomfortable,” the man grumped. “That’s what I said.”
“We are here to mourn, not get comfortable.” The woman sounded smug and self-righteous. “Anyway, Nancy put everything she owned in the Crossroads bar. She couldn’t afford insurance, not to mention she lived in a room above the bar. If she heard that Martin was on his way there to burn down her life savings because she broke up with him, I bet she’s rejoicing his death, not mourning.”
Tina leaned nearer to Chris and whispered in his ear. “That was my brother Martin. It would take a well digger burrowing his way toward the center of the earth to find any scrap of humanity in Martin.”
“Regardless, Tina, he was your brother and he’s dead. I’m sorry you heard that conversation.” Chris put his hand over hers.
Tina was surprised to feel the roughness of Chris’ palm, as if he had been working at hard labor since she’d left town over a decade ago. She slid her hand from between Chris’ arm and hand.
“Wake up, you old goat!” Cindy sounded furious. “Don’t you be thinking you’ll get a nap when you get home, either. You have to fix the leaking sink.”
“I don’t have time to fix a sink. I’m going hunting with Herb.”
“I don’t know why I married you, Bert. I could have married Jonathan Hanson. I’d be living in a beautiful farmhouse, looking out the window at rolling green hills, expensive horses, and fertile crops in the fields.” She sighed.
“Did you forget your glasses again, or are you just too vain to wear them? There’s Chris Hanson right in front of you.” Bert raised his voice. “Chris! Call your father to come and get Cindy.”
“You old coot! I ought to divorce you. I can get on one of those dating sites and find myself a rich man to marry and take care of me.”
“You don’t need a dating site. Chris can take you to his dad right now—since you were almost his mother and all—”
Tina turned around in time to see Cynthia thump Bert’s large ear.
“Ow!”
“Bert, you are embarrassing me. This is no way for you to behave at a funeral visitation.” Her rotund body shaking with anger, she grabbed her purse. Without a backward glance, she stomped through the mourners.
Bert followed her, his steps dragging and his shoulders slumped under his tight jacket.
Tina met Chris’ dancing eyes. She put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She hadn’t thought she’d find anything funny about her trip back to her hometown.
Althea stretched. She put the completed pages in her desk drawer. She carefully locked the drawer, and dropped the small key into her dress pocket. She rose and made her way downstairs.
When she saw the woman with Clay Napier, Althea paused. Who is this beautiful stranger? At least sixty years old, the unknown woman practically in Althea’s suitor’s arms was beautiful. Her creamy white skin stretched tight across her cheekbones, like a ponytail pulled too tight, highlighting the gorgeous bone structure. As she looked up into Clay Napier’s shuttered face, with its aggressively hooked nose and strong jaw line, the stranger shook her long, sunset red hair out of her face with a practiced twitch of her head.
The woman put one small, delicate hand on his arm, and she moved her petite body closer to his. With a slight twist of her hips, her large, perky bosom moved whisper close to his strong chest. One deep breath would close the microscopic space between the two.
With a frown of annoyance, Clay shook off her hand and backed up.
Partially hidden behind a curio cabinet in the lobby of the assisted living center,
“Nancy decided she was done with him? And Martin was mad because he was the one who got to say when it was done?”
“Bert, I swear, I’m going to quit talking to you.”
“Cindy, I can only hope that you quit talking—”
“What?” Cindy was outraged.
Bert backpedalled. A loud creaking came from behind Chris. “These chairs are so uncomfortable,” the man grumped. “That’s what I said.”
“We are here to mourn, not get comfortable.” The woman sounded smug and self-righteous. “Anyway, Nancy put everything she owned in the Crossroads bar. She couldn’t afford insurance, not to mention she lived in a room above the bar. If she heard that Martin was on his way there to burn down her life savings because she broke up with him, I bet she’s rejoicing his death, not mourning.”
Tina leaned nearer to Chris and whispered in his ear. “That was my brother Martin. It would take a well digger burrowing his way toward the center of the earth to find any scrap of humanity in Martin.”
“Regardless, Tina, he was your brother and he’s dead. I’m sorry you heard that conversation.” Chris put his hand over hers.
Tina was surprised to feel the roughness of Chris’ palm, as if he had been working at hard labor since she’d left town over a decade ago. She slid her hand from between Chris’ arm and hand.
“Wake up, you old goat!” Cindy sounded furious. “Don’t you be thinking you’ll get a nap when you get home, either. You have to fix the leaking sink.”
“I don’t have time to fix a sink. I’m going hunting with Herb.”
“I don’t know why I married you, Bert. I could have married Jonathan Hanson. I’d be living in a beautiful farmhouse, looking out the window at rolling green hills, expensive horses, and fertile crops in the fields.” She sighed.
“Did you forget your glasses again, or are you just too vain to wear them? There’s Chris Hanson right in front of you.” Bert raised his voice. “Chris! Call your father to come and get Cindy.”
“You old coot! I ought to divorce you. I can get on one of those dating sites and find myself a rich man to marry and take care of me.”
“You don’t need a dating site. Chris can take you to his dad right now—since you were almost his mother and all—”
Tina turned around in time to see Cynthia thump Bert’s large ear.
“Ow!”
“Bert, you are embarrassing me. This is no way for you to behave at a funeral visitation.” Her rotund body shaking with anger, she grabbed her purse. Without a backward glance, she stomped through the mourners.
Bert followed her, his steps dragging and his shoulders slumped under his tight jacket.
Tina met Chris’ dancing eyes. She put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She hadn’t thought she’d find anything funny about her trip back to her hometown.
Althea stretched. She put the completed pages in her desk drawer. She carefully locked the drawer, and dropped the small key into her dress pocket. She rose and made her way downstairs.
When she saw the woman with Clay Napier, Althea paused. Who is this beautiful stranger? At least sixty years old, the unknown woman practically in Althea’s suitor’s arms was beautiful. Her creamy white skin stretched tight across her cheekbones, like a ponytail pulled too tight, highlighting the gorgeous bone structure. As she looked up into Clay Napier’s shuttered face, with its aggressively hooked nose and strong jaw line, the stranger shook her long, sunset red hair out of her face with a practiced twitch of her head.
The woman put one small, delicate hand on his arm, and she moved her petite body closer to his. With a slight twist of her hips, her large, perky bosom moved whisper close to his strong chest. One deep breath would close the microscopic space between the two.
With a frown of annoyance, Clay shook off her hand and backed up.
Partially hidden behind a curio cabinet in the lobby of the assisted living center,
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