Read Online Murder Is Uncooperative by Merrilee Robson - Free Book Online Page A

apartment door. Glancing at my watch, I saw that I'd been sittingat my keyboard for over three hours. Good time for a break, I thought, heading to open the door.
    I was pleased to see Mariana and even more pleased to smell the scent of warm chocolate. She was holding a plate of cookies. “I was doing some baking and thought you might like these,” she said, “or at least I thought your little boy would.”
    â€œI think we'll all like them,” I said. “They smell wonderful.”
    â€œGood. Are you doing all right? I know last night must have been rough.”
    â€œIt was,” I admitted. “But worse for Les. What a terrible thing to have happened. You heard he didn't make it?” She nodded. “Look,” I said, “would you like to come in? I could make some tea.”
    â€œIf you're sure I'm not interrupting. Some of us do tend to drop into each other's homes all the time, but I'm sure you have lots to do.”
    â€œWell, I'm ready for a cup of tea, and I'd love to have your company. I really appreciated your help last night. I was pretty upset.”
    â€œI can imagine how awful it must have been.” She followed me into the living room. “Oh, this is charming. It's funny; most of the units have the same layout, but everyone decorates them differently, so they each look different. That loveseat looks like it was made for this room.”
    â€œHardly. We're not in the custom furniture income bracket. But I was glad it fit so well. And the bookcase is exactly the right length for the wall. That was lucky. They're both fairly new. My mother bought them when she and my dad sold their house and moved into a townhouse. Their old furniture was too big for the new place.”
    Seeing her questioning look, I said, “She died last year.” I felt tears gathering in my eyes again and quickly changed the subject. “I'll just get the tea on. And let me unwrap these lovely cookies.”
    Mariana had brought the cookies over on a plate covered with a linen tea towel. I thought for a moment about the towel I had pressed to the wound on Les's head and shuddered.
    â€œGorgeous plate,” I said, as I removed the covering. The plate was made of delicate china and the soft pink and blue flowers looked hand-painted.
    â€œIt was my grandmother's,” she said. “I inherited her china and some of her other things.”
    â€œThen let me put these on one of my plates and give this back to you,” I said quickly. “Ben's a good kid, and pretty careful with things. But you know a four-year-old and a kitten are just not a good fit with family heirlooms.”
    As if on cue, Maui came trotting into the living room. His nose twitched at all the unfamiliar smells—Mariana's perfume, the cookies, the still-new smell of the co-op apartment.
    â€œWhat a sweet kitten,” Mariana said, holding out her hand toward Maui. He backed away.
    â€œHe's pretty shy around strangers,” I said. “He usually hides when people come over. He and Ben are good buddies, though. My two babies.”
    I put the tea and cups on the low coffee table in the living room and went back for the plate of cookies.
    â€œIs Ben with his father today?” she asked casually. “Or out with your father?”
    Aha, I thought, I see the reason for the cookies. Mariana was about my father's age. And my father was very good-looking, with a full head of silver hair and very dark eyes. Despite his arthritis, hewas still pretty fit. Several of the women in our old townhouse complex had seemed to be interested.
    â€œBen goes to pre-school a couple of days a week,” I answered. “And Dad has gone to the pool at the community center. Swimming is one of the exercises he can do even when his arthritis is bad. It's nice to have a pool so close.”
    â€œOh, it is,” Mariana agreed. “That's one of the things I love about this neighborhood. I'm often down at the