Murder Al Fresco Read Online Free Page A

a fix." Pops pulled out one of the ladder-backed chairs and gingerly lowered himself into it, the motion full of barely suppressed agony. "He suggested I change my diet to a nightshade-free one."
    "Nightshade-free?" I sat in the chair across from him. "If I remember my first year CIA studies correctly, that's potatoes, tomatoes, eggplant, and peppers." Some of his favorites.
    Pops nodded. "Right. Doc says there've been studies done about people who've gone off those things doing better than with just the medication alone. He told me about it when I went in the winter, and when he showed up at poker tonight and saw what a tough time I was having, he reminded me about it in front of Cecily. That's why she's fit to be tied. I wasn't gonna try it anyways."
    I frowned. "Why not, if it will make you feel better?"
    Pops shot me an exasperated look then his gaze shifted to the still closed bedroom door. That's when I got it. "You didn't want to make things more difficult for Aunt Cecily, right? Oh, Pops." Classic Eugene Buckland—not wanting to cause a fuss and suffering in silence so as not to upset his family.
    "Not just her. It's you too, Andy girl. You spend all day cooking, and I can't be asking you to make something special just for me."
    I reached across the expanse of table and covered his gnarled hand with my own. "Of course you can. You think I wouldn't be thrilled to do something to help you feel better, especially if it's with food? And even though she's not reacting well to the news, I'm sure once she calms down Aunt Cecily will be happy to make some changes."
    Pops rolled his eyes at me. "If you think that, you don't know nothing, Andy girl." He sighed. "Looks like I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight."
    I cringed at the thought of my grandfather resting his sore body on that lumpy couch. He might not be able to get up in the morning. "You can sleep in my bed. I was going back to Jones's place anyhow. I just wanted to drop off the soup."
My grandfather's thin lips thinned even further. He liked Jones. More than liked him, but Pops was old fashioned, and he didn't approve of premarital, coed sleepovers. "He's in New York for the weekend, remember?"
    His expression cleared. "All right then. Is that wedding soup I smell?"
    I mentally ran down the list of ingredients then sagged in relief. "Naturally nightshade-free, and there's fresh Italian bread to go with it. And wine—you can still have wine, right? See, it's not so bad. Want me to fix you a bowl?"
    Pops patted my hand. "What would I do without you?"
    I leaned in a little. "I'll talk to Aunt Cecily too. Don't feel bad about this, okay? Lots of people have special dietary requirements…"
    "Andy?" Pops asked as I stared off into space.
    I grinned at him. "You've just helped me solve a problem, Pops, so I'm glad the cat got out of the bag."
He shook his head then looked back to the bedroom door. "Glad somebody's happy."
     
    *   *   *
     
    Nightshade-free Italian cooking. I grinned as I drove back to Jones's house. That was enough of a challenge that I could really show my culinary mad skills and possibly take home the prize. I hadn't told Pops about the cooking competition yet. He had enough on his plate, and I wanted to share the news when Aunt Cecily's dark mood wasn't looming over us all.
    As the evening wind whipped through my hair, I contemplated my cooking challenge, in addition to the more personal investigation. I really needed to have a conversation with Jones since the burden of the sleuthing would fall to him. Donna was right. I did feel kind of guilty for volunteering his services without consulting him first. But Jones knew how much restoring my reputation meant to me. And I felt sure he'd want me to do everything in my power to get my career back on track.
    At least I really hoped he would. If not…
    I dismissed the doubt from my thoughts. As Nana used to say, don't go borrowing trouble. Positive attitude—had to remember that.
    Jones's place was