The Gossiping Gourmet: (A Murder in Marin Mystery - Book 1) (Murder in Marin Mysteries) Read Online Free

Bypassing Sausalito’s outrageously
expensive grocery store and various food boutiques in favor of salmon, steaks,
and chicken acquired at Costco provided the respectable basics for many
lavishly presented gourmet meals. The fifty-mile round trip drive to the
northern part of Marin County was a small sacrifice, given his tight budget.
Warren simply made certain to carry his acquisitions into his house in unmarked
boxes and discretely dispose of any Costco labels in a city trash bin, never in
his own refuse, left out weekly for pickup on the curb.
    As all great gossips know,
prying eyes can be found anywhere, and garbage often provides a trove of hidden
truths. 
    Alma stepped cautiously but
confidently into the sunroom, where Warren was enjoying the view. One of her
closest friends, Beatrice Snyder, had recently broken her hip after a fall.
Alma was determined to avoid a similar fate.
    “Alma, my dear, how are you?”
Warren asked, as he kissed her hand and smiled warmly.
    “As well as can be expected,
I suppose,” Alma said, as she gave an anemic smile in response to Warren’s
touch before making herself as comfortable as possible in an old
Chippendale-back chair that had been relegated to the sun room years ago.
    Cold bitch, Warren thought,
while making certain a smile remained brightly upon his face.
    Alma believed herself to be
gracious by the simple act of inviting Warren into her home. If not for her
love of gossip, he would have no place in her presence.
    “Now, Warren,” she began in
the imperious tone Warren had heard so many times before, “what’s this business
about Grant Randolph?”
    As he always did, Warren spun
a tale over a period of ten minutes that would have taken anyone else two
minutes to tell. But since his only currency was information, he was a master
at presenting a few spare facts as an epic tale.
    “Well, well! I can tell you,
Warren, I’m not at all surprised. That man has a mean streak in him, and I just
knew it.”
    “If I didn’t know that
before, my dear, I certainly know it now,” Warren said with a false look of
shared concern.
    “I hope you think twice
before putting any of this in the paper. You can never be sure what kind of
people you’re dealing with. For years, we had a better group of people moving
into Sausalito. Now, I just don’t know. These young social climbers are not to
be trusted.”
    “Alma, my dear, I couldn’t
put it better myself.”
    Mrs. Samuels’ advice was
indeed music to Warren’s ears. He had no intention of sharing his best scoops
with random readers. Plus, he cowered from the thought of being under the same
dark cloud his publisher was frequently under. Reporting hard news made you a
target—not from the threat of physical harm, but of being socially ostracized.
A teller of truths that many don’t want to hear—and others are enraged simply
by seeing in print—carries a heavy burden.
    So much good gossip not going
into his column was one of the unhappy realities of the news business: many of
your best ideas never got a chance to appear in print. Still, Warren had
already typed out the headline “Art Commission Chairman Randolph Paints an Ugly
Picture” and saved it to a file marked Randolph, in the hope that his
cleverly crafted declaration might appear next to his byline one day.
    Alma gathered her strength
and said, “Well, what’s to be done about this? It would be an outrage for
Randolph to be allowed to stay on. A violent man in a distinguished community
position? That’s unacceptable!”
    It quickly occurred to Warren
that perhaps he was already in a bit too deep. He was in the gossip business.
If it was Alma’s presumption, however, that he wished to play the white knight,
she was sorely mistaken.
    Warren paused and uttered an
extended “Well,” which gave the impression that he was deep in thought. Then he
began, “I have eyes and ears everywhere. First, we’ll have to see if his poor
wife pushes forward in filing charges