Legs Benedict Read Online Free Page B

interesting.”
    â€œThey came from an old family album,” Judith said. “All the pictures were taken in Cincinnati, but they go back so far that I honestly don’t know who these people are.”
    Roland peered at the grouping of a half-dozen posed photographs. “Handsome people. Hearty. German?”
    â€œHearty,” Judith thought, was a tactful way of saying overstuffed and obese. “Probably. They’re my mother’s family. She was a Hoffman before she married my father, Donald Grover.”
    â€œAh.” Roland gave the pictures one last look. “Then I’ll be joining you at six for the informal get-together?”
    â€œThat’s right,” Judith replied. “Though I don’t actually mingle. I think it’s intrusive. Guests seem to do better on their own when it comes to getting acquainted.”
    Roland du Turque concurred. After he had bowed her out of Room Two, Judith hurried back downstairs. Although it was only five-thirty, Pam and Sandi were in the living room where Renie had poured them each a glass of white wine.
    â€œWe’re having a hot talk about toilet training,” Renie said, getting up from one of the two matching sofas in front of the fireplace. “Now that our three kids can finally go to the bathroom on their own, I wanted Pam and Sandi’s advice on how to get them to clean the toilets.”
    â€œThey should be old enough to read the instructions on cleaning materials,” Pam said, now very serious. “Many of those compounds are highly dangerous.”
    â€œPam’s right,” Sandi put in. “How old are your kiddies?”
    â€œTwenty-nine, twenty-eight, and twenty-six,” Renie answered with a straight face.
    Sandi covered her mouth with her hands and Pam broke into giggles. “No! We’re not much older than that!” cried Pam.
    â€œOlder, younger,” chanted Sandi, reaching across the sofa to slap hands with Pam, “bigger, smaller, shorter, taller, inside we’re all the same!”
    Happily, Judith heard the doorbell. She hurried off to the entry hall, and found Mr. and Mrs. John Smith waiting on the porch.
    â€œJust pulled in,” said John in a marked New York accent. “We drove all the way from Montana today. It started raining the minute we crossed the mountains, but it’s stopped now.”
    â€œThe weather’s like that around here,” said Judith. “Very changeable.” Guardedly, she studied the pair. John Smith was tall, rangy, and in his mid-forties. He had restless hazel eyes and a manner that suggested he was always on the alert. The suit he wore looked very expensive to Judith, perhaps an Armani, though there was a foot-long tear in the left pant leg.
    Mrs. Smith, who also struck Judith as tense, was clad in a deep blue silk wrap skirt and a scoop-necked blouse. She was above average height, pretty in an artificial way, andno more than mid-twenties. Judith began to wonder if Renie’s earlier suspicions were correct.
    â€œThis is the wife,” John asserted, as if he could read his hostess’s mind. “Meet Darlene, Mrs. Flynn.”
    Darlene offered Judith a limp hand and a bogus smile. “Pleased to meetcha,” she murmured.
    â€œYes, of course,” Judith stammered. “Now if I could show you…”
    John waved a bony hand. “We’ll manage. Just tell us the room number.”
    â€œIt’s Room Three, but I wanted to explain about the…”
    â€œLater,” John broke in. “Come on, Darl, let’s go.” He picked up one of their two large suitcases and headed upstairs, his movements surprisingly graceful. Darl followed with another bogus smile for Judith.
    Hearing a dull thump on the front porch, Judith went to fetch the evening paper. As she opened the door, she saw one of the middle Dooleys, O. P., for St. Oliver Plunkett, wheeling away on his bicycle.
    â€œThanks,” she