breakfast is included in the night’s stay.”
“What do you serve?” Deelight asked, and I saw Bitty elbow her sharply. “Oof! I was just curious.”
In Deelight’s defense, she still has children at home and is always looking for new menu ideas.
Bitty patted her on the arm. “I know, dear, but it’s rude to interrupt.” She looked back at Trina. “More tea? It seems to have an especially energizing effect today.”
When Trina held out her cup, I slid a glance toward Rayna, who kept a poker face as she poured from the teapot. I don’t know how she did it. Rayna is a woman of many talents.
“It must be the caffeine,” said Gaynelle, “but do go on, Trina.”
The center of rapt Diva attention now, Trina seemed to swell with importance. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, prolonging our suspense before she said, “I went into the cottage because I couldn’t understand a word Trisha was saying. She was just so hysterical, screaming and crying—well! I got no farther than the bedroom door when I saw him. There he was, lying across the bed just inside the door, naked as a jaybird and with his— you know —stiff as a poker and standing straight up. It was so big you could have hung a flag on it.”
At that, Cindy Nelson’s hiccups stopped.
I think a few of us stopped breathing for a moment, too, and I know all of us were visualizing Race Champion with his you know flying a flag. We must have looked foolish sitting there in a circle of chairs with slackened jaws and glazed eyes, and I am very glad Bitty’s windows have curtains.
Gaynelle recovered first. “Well then,” she asked briskly, “how could you tell he was dead?”
“The hole in the middle of his forehead. It was quite noticeable.”
“Oh my,” Deelight said in a squeaky voice, “oh my!”
Trina nodded. “It was awful.”
An understatement, I thought.
“I heard he was shot twice,” Rayna said.
“Yes, so did I, but all I noticed was that hole in his forehead. It looked so big and perfectly round, like someone had used a hole-puncher.” Trina leaned forward to set her empty teacup on the tray in the middle of the ottoman. “Of course, I didn’t get too close to him. All I could think was that whoever killed him might still be hiding in the cottage and that Trisha and I should get back to the house and call the police.”
“I wouldn’t have known what to do,” Cady Lee said in a horrified tone. “I think I would have just fainted dead away right there.”
“Well, I felt like it,” Trina said with a light shudder that seemed more put on than real, “but I knew I had to get Trisha to safety just in case.”
“Oh, you were so brave!” Cindy said now that she was hiccup-free. “You just never know what you’ll do until it happens to you, I guess.”
Not too long ago, Cindy had been the victim of a deranged assailant who is now safely in custody, thank heavens. Since I’d also been bashed in the head, I figured she might appreciate a bit of commiseration.
“But we both made it through,” I said to her softly.
Tears came into her eyes and she nodded, and so she wouldn’t feel alone, I got all teary, too. We hugged each other over Rayna’s head, since she was sitting between us, and I heard her mutter, “Good lord!”
Bitty, ever the consummate hostess even after far too many cups of tea, said to ease the sudden downward turn in our conversation, “Would anyone like more tea?”
“Good god,” Cady Lee said in a groan, “if I have anymore of this tea I’ll need to call Brett to drive me home. I swear I feel tipsy. Am I the only one?”
“No,” said Gaynelle, frowning at her empty cup, “I feel . . . odd. What is in this tea, Bitty?”
Looking a bit bewildered, Bitty peered into her cup and then sniffed the contents. I knew the instant she recognized the scent. Her head jerked up in surprise. “Someone spiked our tea!”
All eyes turned toward me.
I said the first thing that came to mind:
“What do you serve?” Deelight asked, and I saw Bitty elbow her sharply. “Oof! I was just curious.”
In Deelight’s defense, she still has children at home and is always looking for new menu ideas.
Bitty patted her on the arm. “I know, dear, but it’s rude to interrupt.” She looked back at Trina. “More tea? It seems to have an especially energizing effect today.”
When Trina held out her cup, I slid a glance toward Rayna, who kept a poker face as she poured from the teapot. I don’t know how she did it. Rayna is a woman of many talents.
“It must be the caffeine,” said Gaynelle, “but do go on, Trina.”
The center of rapt Diva attention now, Trina seemed to swell with importance. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, prolonging our suspense before she said, “I went into the cottage because I couldn’t understand a word Trisha was saying. She was just so hysterical, screaming and crying—well! I got no farther than the bedroom door when I saw him. There he was, lying across the bed just inside the door, naked as a jaybird and with his— you know —stiff as a poker and standing straight up. It was so big you could have hung a flag on it.”
At that, Cindy Nelson’s hiccups stopped.
I think a few of us stopped breathing for a moment, too, and I know all of us were visualizing Race Champion with his you know flying a flag. We must have looked foolish sitting there in a circle of chairs with slackened jaws and glazed eyes, and I am very glad Bitty’s windows have curtains.
Gaynelle recovered first. “Well then,” she asked briskly, “how could you tell he was dead?”
“The hole in the middle of his forehead. It was quite noticeable.”
“Oh my,” Deelight said in a squeaky voice, “oh my!”
Trina nodded. “It was awful.”
An understatement, I thought.
“I heard he was shot twice,” Rayna said.
“Yes, so did I, but all I noticed was that hole in his forehead. It looked so big and perfectly round, like someone had used a hole-puncher.” Trina leaned forward to set her empty teacup on the tray in the middle of the ottoman. “Of course, I didn’t get too close to him. All I could think was that whoever killed him might still be hiding in the cottage and that Trisha and I should get back to the house and call the police.”
“I wouldn’t have known what to do,” Cady Lee said in a horrified tone. “I think I would have just fainted dead away right there.”
“Well, I felt like it,” Trina said with a light shudder that seemed more put on than real, “but I knew I had to get Trisha to safety just in case.”
“Oh, you were so brave!” Cindy said now that she was hiccup-free. “You just never know what you’ll do until it happens to you, I guess.”
Not too long ago, Cindy had been the victim of a deranged assailant who is now safely in custody, thank heavens. Since I’d also been bashed in the head, I figured she might appreciate a bit of commiseration.
“But we both made it through,” I said to her softly.
Tears came into her eyes and she nodded, and so she wouldn’t feel alone, I got all teary, too. We hugged each other over Rayna’s head, since she was sitting between us, and I heard her mutter, “Good lord!”
Bitty, ever the consummate hostess even after far too many cups of tea, said to ease the sudden downward turn in our conversation, “Would anyone like more tea?”
“Good god,” Cady Lee said in a groan, “if I have anymore of this tea I’ll need to call Brett to drive me home. I swear I feel tipsy. Am I the only one?”
“No,” said Gaynelle, frowning at her empty cup, “I feel . . . odd. What is in this tea, Bitty?”
Looking a bit bewildered, Bitty peered into her cup and then sniffed the contents. I knew the instant she recognized the scent. Her head jerked up in surprise. “Someone spiked our tea!”
All eyes turned toward me.
I said the first thing that came to mind:
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