Read Online Murder on the Cape Fear by Ellen Elizabeth Hunter - Free Book Online
Authors: Ellen Elizabeth Hunter
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town?”
“ We ain’t in no hurry to go home, are we Jimmy?’
But Jimmy was already showing us his back as he headed out, and if he replied I did not hear.
Patsy went on, “Pickins here is good, and I’m on to a sensational story. Got me a humdinger of a plot for my next book. Melanie is bringin’ her boyfriend over tonight for dinner. I’m as good a cook as that Paula Deen any day. Anywho, he’s a big TV producer and I’m gonna make my pitch to him for my own TV show.”
She sashayed past us on her way out. “If you two got plans for tonight, don’t feel like you have to come. I’ll understand. No problem. I done figured out where all the pots and pans were stowed when I cooked us our breakfast this mornin’. You sure do keep a paltry refrigerator, missy. I had to send Jimmy out for bacon and eggs.” She looked from me to Jon. “How’d you expect to keep a man if you ain’t gonna feed him? Didn’t your mama tell you the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”
“ Leave Ashley’s mother out of this,” Jon declared.
But Patsy ignored him, and pointing to the boxes filled with the Captain’s artifacts, she said, “Don’t you go givin’ them pickins to nobody. They come with the house, and I’m buyin’ this house. Check with Melanie! Whaddya think I drove down here for and why do you think I’m a’stayin’. Ain’t because of them police. If I wanted to leave, I’d leave. I got me the best law firm in Charlotte on retainer to deal with annoyances like the police. And now that Mullins is out of the biddin’, this house is mine.”
At that point I lost it and stuck my face into hers. “For the last time, this house is not for sale!”
But my words didn’t faze her. She stopped on the porch, her gaze fixed on the curb and the pile of trash we had cleared from the Captain’s house. She turned to give me one of the defiant looks I was actually growing accustomed to. “Don’t underestimate me, Missy. I won’t born in no barn. That stuff out their waitin’ for trash pickup is fair pickins. You can’t stop me from goin’ through that stash and takin’ anything I damn well please!”
8
“ You’re looking fit as a fiddle,” I told Binkie.
He beamed and let me into his house through the new front door. “Come on back and we’ll give you the best bacon and tomato sandwich you’ve ever tasted,” he invited. “I spent the morning at my favorite gym, beating the dickens out of a punching bag. If I find someone trying to break down my door again, watch out!” And he lifted his fists in his best pugilistic stance.
Binkie had been boxing since youth, and the exercise kept him in shape, for as a scholar he led a sedentary life style. Still I hoped he was not serious about tangling with a burglar; he was too old to be getting into fistfights. Unlike a punching bag, the burglar would hit back.
“ I’ve got news. I know who sent the journal.”
“ Do tell! Join us for lunch and tell me all about it. My bride watches her waistline and mine too. Turkey bacon and nine grain bread and tomatoes from the garden.”
And he led me through the house to the shady patio where Aunt Ruby welcomed me. I observed that the kitchen porch which Aunt Ruby used as a crafts room had been cleaned up and restored to its former self. “Sit right down here, Ashley dear,” Aunt Ruby welcomed me graciously. She’d been working on her pottery, with paint smudges on her soft loose-fitting slacks and blouse. “Take my sandwich, dear,” she said, “I haven’t touched it yet. It’s still warm. I’ll just run inside and make another. But don’t you dare share your news until I return.”
She went into the kitchen, fetched a tall glass for my iced tea, then disappeared again.
“ She’s the boss,” Binkie said proudly. “We won’t discuss your news until she returns.”
I helped myself to iced tea from the frosty pitcher.
“ She sweetens it with honey,” Binkie
“ We ain’t in no hurry to go home, are we Jimmy?’
But Jimmy was already showing us his back as he headed out, and if he replied I did not hear.
Patsy went on, “Pickins here is good, and I’m on to a sensational story. Got me a humdinger of a plot for my next book. Melanie is bringin’ her boyfriend over tonight for dinner. I’m as good a cook as that Paula Deen any day. Anywho, he’s a big TV producer and I’m gonna make my pitch to him for my own TV show.”
She sashayed past us on her way out. “If you two got plans for tonight, don’t feel like you have to come. I’ll understand. No problem. I done figured out where all the pots and pans were stowed when I cooked us our breakfast this mornin’. You sure do keep a paltry refrigerator, missy. I had to send Jimmy out for bacon and eggs.” She looked from me to Jon. “How’d you expect to keep a man if you ain’t gonna feed him? Didn’t your mama tell you the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”
“ Leave Ashley’s mother out of this,” Jon declared.
But Patsy ignored him, and pointing to the boxes filled with the Captain’s artifacts, she said, “Don’t you go givin’ them pickins to nobody. They come with the house, and I’m buyin’ this house. Check with Melanie! Whaddya think I drove down here for and why do you think I’m a’stayin’. Ain’t because of them police. If I wanted to leave, I’d leave. I got me the best law firm in Charlotte on retainer to deal with annoyances like the police. And now that Mullins is out of the biddin’, this house is mine.”
At that point I lost it and stuck my face into hers. “For the last time, this house is not for sale!”
But my words didn’t faze her. She stopped on the porch, her gaze fixed on the curb and the pile of trash we had cleared from the Captain’s house. She turned to give me one of the defiant looks I was actually growing accustomed to. “Don’t underestimate me, Missy. I won’t born in no barn. That stuff out their waitin’ for trash pickup is fair pickins. You can’t stop me from goin’ through that stash and takin’ anything I damn well please!”
8
“ You’re looking fit as a fiddle,” I told Binkie.
He beamed and let me into his house through the new front door. “Come on back and we’ll give you the best bacon and tomato sandwich you’ve ever tasted,” he invited. “I spent the morning at my favorite gym, beating the dickens out of a punching bag. If I find someone trying to break down my door again, watch out!” And he lifted his fists in his best pugilistic stance.
Binkie had been boxing since youth, and the exercise kept him in shape, for as a scholar he led a sedentary life style. Still I hoped he was not serious about tangling with a burglar; he was too old to be getting into fistfights. Unlike a punching bag, the burglar would hit back.
“ I’ve got news. I know who sent the journal.”
“ Do tell! Join us for lunch and tell me all about it. My bride watches her waistline and mine too. Turkey bacon and nine grain bread and tomatoes from the garden.”
And he led me through the house to the shady patio where Aunt Ruby welcomed me. I observed that the kitchen porch which Aunt Ruby used as a crafts room had been cleaned up and restored to its former self. “Sit right down here, Ashley dear,” Aunt Ruby welcomed me graciously. She’d been working on her pottery, with paint smudges on her soft loose-fitting slacks and blouse. “Take my sandwich, dear,” she said, “I haven’t touched it yet. It’s still warm. I’ll just run inside and make another. But don’t you dare share your news until I return.”
She went into the kitchen, fetched a tall glass for my iced tea, then disappeared again.
“ She’s the boss,” Binkie said proudly. “We won’t discuss your news until she returns.”
I helped myself to iced tea from the frosty pitcher.
“ She sweetens it with honey,” Binkie
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