Hickory Smoked Homicide Read Online Free Page B

like throngs of people.
    Steffi said, “Thanks for the ride over, Sara. I know I wasn’t on Mother’s guest list, but I wanted to see the auction. What time were you saying for us to leave, Sara?”
    By the look on Sara’s face, Lulu could tell she was ready to leave right then. “Maybe thirty minutes after the auction, if we could. That’ll give me enough time to talk to the guests who bought my paintings. I’m thinking that should be around eight o’clock. I’m already worn out and want to get back home and hit the sack.”
    “No problem,” said Steffi. “I have a feeling I’ll be ready to escape Mother by then. She’s sure to be shooting me looks for being here.” And Steffi disappeared into the crowd of guests.
    “I don’t understand why that child wanted to come,” clucked Lulu. “It’s not like her mama didn’t give her a clear enough message that she wasn’t welcome. Poor baby.”
    Sara shrugged. “Teenagers. She’s being passive-aggressive and proving to her mom that she can do whatever she likes. Besides, there’s safety in numbers. No wonder she wanted to go with us. What I don’t understand is what I’m doing here. I’m already ready to head back to the car.”
    “This will probably be a great night for you, Sara. These folks look like they buy art. You’ll probably even unload that portrait of Tristan. And I know you’ll be glad to get it out of your house.”
    “Isn’t that the truth?” said Sara, looking balefully at the covered painting she was lugging in. “I didn’t even know all these people were going to be here.” She set the portrait down to rest a moment before picking it up again. “Tristan has this many friends?”
    “She probably doesn’t—people are just looking for a fun evening out, and the tickets weren’t even all that expensive at fifty dollars a person. And you don’t have anything to worry about, Sara—folks are probably going to come up to you to chat about your art. It’s not like you have to go up and make a speech or anything.”
    “Except,” said Sara in a low voice despite the loud party going on around her, “that I’m planning to unveil this portrait of Tristan that she hates.”
    “I wouldn’t worry my head over it, Sara. Maybe it’ll sell at the auction. If not, you’ve not lost anything—and you’ll have filled your tummy with some scrumptious food.”
    Unfortunately, thought Lulu as she took a big sip from her punch glass, the food wasn’t so scrumptious after all.
    Cherry took a big bite of the chicken, then proceeded to chew, and chew, and chew, making a face at Lulu.
    “Cardboard. That’s what this stuff tastes like. She should have gotten Aunt Pat’s to cook for the party,” said Cherry, finally giving up on the chicken and discreetly depositing it into a napkin. “This is the worst food I’ve ever put in my mouth! Tristan must have gotten the hospital to cater this benefit.”
    “What a shame,” said Lulu, sadly surveying her plate. “The food looks good. It smells good, too. Nice presentation—they just overcooked it. And undercooked it. And overseasoned it and underseasoned it. I missed lunch today, so I’m starving. I might slip into Tristan’s kitchen and find something to spice it up a little bit.”
    Cherry’s face brightened. “Maybe you can sneak in the kitchen and snag some salt and pepper. I was going to toss my food in the trash, but I think Mama would haunt me. She was always worried about those starving children in . . . well, wherever it was that they were starving back when I was little.”
    So Lulu walked right into the kitchen on a rescue mission, and no one paid attention to her being there at all. The catering staff was too focused on producing more of their culinary disaster.
    Lulu finally tracked down some salt and pepper. What catering company would underseason food and then not even have salt and pepper out to resuscitate it all?
    Lulu was heading out of the kitchen when she heard