Death in a Turkey Town: A Chloe Boston Mystery Read Online Free

investigator. If Gordon had anything fishy in his past, Alex would find it. “Then I’ll let you go up to Althea. She’ll be on the second floor, past the pediatrician’s waiting room.”
    “You’re not coming?” He was relieved.
    “No. I’ve got to get back to work.” Gordon’s brow beetled as he belatedly considered his own truancy. I said, “If anyone notices just tell them you took an early lunch when you heard your fiancée was hurt. The Chief will understand—someone is manning the desk, right?”
    “Yeah. Mrs. Wicks is there.”
    That wasn’t so great. Petunia Wicks was a sweet woman but she had never really gotten the hang of our phone system. I crossed my fingers that we had no emergencies that afternoon. We could have riots and looting inside the station before Mrs. Wicks managed to successfully answer a call.
    “Well, don’t be long anyway. And don’t worry—Aunt Dorothy and Mom are with Althea. She’ll be fine.”
    “Maybe I should call my mother,” he said tentatively.
    “Why don’t you wait until you have definite news?” And until I was long gone. “You know Althea wouldn’t want a big fuss made.”
    That was a total lie. Althea would want a giant fuss made over her. But not by Gordon’s mother who was likely to arrive with her gold roses and unwanted wedding plans.
    “That’s a good idea. Althea wouldn’t want to scare Mom. She’s very sensitive,” he said, relieved to have an excuse to put off the phone call. Poor Gordon. Neither Althea nor his mom were as delicate as he believed.
    I patted him on the arm, feeling empathy for his approaching disillusionment.
    “Don’t worry. Althea was able to phone for help. She didn’t hit her head, so there is no need to worry about anything except her ankle.” And Althea’s brain damage had been with her since birth. True, she would be cranky until completely healed, but it was best that Gordon know how peevish she could be before the knot was tied. As Gordon already knew, there isn’t an easy out for buyer’s remorse when you’re married. “But you need to warn Althea that your ex is in town. Maybe not this minute since the moms are there and you may want to be private when you tell her, but soon. You don’t want her getting blind-sided with this news and you know how some people gossip.”
    People like the lardhead actually and there were a whole lot of people who would be happy to pay him back. I left Gordon gulping like a stranded fish and hurried out of the gloomy hospital and back to my cart where Blue was waiting.
     
     

Chapter 3
     
     
    I have one of my grandmother’s special tablecloths. Mom has always been afraid to use it. For her, tablecloths should either be white damask or else vinyl with childish figures you take on picnics.  This cloth is linen, hand printed, made in Brazil. The colors are a rich wine and eggplant—or aubergine, to those who mistakenly think the textile was made in France. It has gold medallions and assorted gourds around the border and again in the center of the cloth. It is rather like the tablecloths I’ve seen downtown at the kitchen shop that are from Provence. Except the colors are more intense.
    I am not a shopper, but a year ago I had stopped by an estate sale and fallen in love with a set of dishes. I had been hiding them since that impulsive purchase. They were fire engine red and square. Mom would hate them, but I was going to use them for Thanksgiving along with Grandma’s tablecloth since for once I was having enough guests to justify putting a leaf in the table and that would lift the cloth off of the floor where it would puddle in a convenient cat size bed if the table was not extended. I had also seen a wonderful arrangement made out of fall leaves and pepper berries instead of flowers in a magazine. The fall leaves were getting scarce thanks to a series of storms, but I still had some creeper on my fence and there were sprigs of fallen pepper berries everywhere. Mrs.