As Gouda as Dead by Avery Aames Page A

my place to go into details. “The police will be forthcoming.”
    â€œThe police?” Dottie gasped.
    â€œWas he murdered?” Ray asked.
    I nodded. “Sometime between nine and ten P . M .”
    â€œDid Belinda Bell do it?” Dottie asked. “She had a beef with him.”
    â€œDottie, don’t go spreading rumors,” Ray said.
    â€œShe did!” Dottie sliced the air with her hand. “The noise. She couldn’t stand it. She was all over Tim, exactly like she is with us.”
    â€œ
You
,” Ray said.
    Dottie glowered. “She also didn’t like the over-imbibing and the drunken behavior on the street.”
    I cleared my throat. “I heard you two were at the pub last night.”
    â€œWe were.” Dottie blinked back tears. “We saw Tim. He was always so happy, teasing the customers the way he did. Oh my, his poor family.”
    â€œHe doesn’t have a family,” Ray said.
    â€œDoes too. All those nephews. His brothers.”
    â€œBut no wife.”
    â€œRay, don’t be insensitive.” Dottie bit out the words. “Not everyone is meant to be married. And he was dating that darling Tyanne. Why, she must be distraught.”
    â€œShe is,” I said, wondering how my friend had survived the night.
    Dottie fluttered her hand in front of her mouth. “Charlotte, what did you want to ask? We’ll do anything to help.”
    â€œViolet Walden was at the pub with Paige Alpaugh, and they said—”
    â€œPaige,” Dottie sniffed. “She should keep her health tips to herself. ‘Sugar is the devil,’ she says. What is wrong with her? Sugar is no worse than anything else in this world. My, oh my, but she’s a nosy-nose sometimes, like that Belinda Bell.”
    â€œDottie, don’t be mean-spirited,” Ray cut in. “Stay on topic.”
    â€œYes, hon, of course. Charlotte, I apologize. Do go on. You were talking about Violet and Paige.”
    â€œViolet said Tim drove off in his truck. Not long after, she saw Jawbone Jones speed away in his. She wasn’t sure if Jawbone was chasing Tim. She thought you, Ray, might have seen something, too.”
    â€œMe?”
    â€œYou did, hon,” Dottie said. “Remember? When you went outside to get my overcoat.” She punched him lightly and then addressed me. “Ray told me to leave it in the car. It would be warm enough in the pub he said, and I, like an idiot, listened to him. Then, of course, I got cold.” Snuffling, she quickly pulled out a tissue that she’d tucked inside the sleeve of her dress. She blew her nose and promptly spritzed her hands with sanitizer solution. “Charlotte, you said the goat cheese pastries, right? Of course you did. Anyway, hon,” she addressed her husband, “remember when you came back inside a few minutes later?”
    Ray scratched his ear and shook his head.
    â€œYes,” Dottie persisted. “You told me Jawbone confronted Tim or something. Tim tore off, and then Jawbone ground that truck of his into gear. Maybe you don’t remember because we left right after.”
    â€œNo, I remember. Sure I do.”
    â€œNow who’s the one that’s dotty?” Dottie jibed, making light of her name.
    â€œJawbone confronted Tim?” I asked.
    â€œFinger to his chest, that’s what Ray said.” Dottie mimed the gesture. “Typical boorish male behavior. Where do they learn to be so aggressive? If I had boys, they’d be little gentlemen.”
    Ray grunted.
    I regarded him. “Did you hear what they were arguing about?”
    â€œNah. I was too far away.”
    Using tongs, Dottie lifted two pastries from a tray and set them into a waxed bag. “Charlotte, just so you don’t get the wrong idea and think we have a bone to pick with Jawbone—” She hesitated, apparently realizing the play on words she had made:
bone, Jawbone
. “He’s