Larceny and Lace by Annette Blair Page B

now both Sweets were standing at the screen door waiting. “"Madeira? Is that you?”" Ethel asked. “"Is something wrong, dear, that you’'re here so late?”"
    Dolly, the older at a hundred and three, was being held up by her daughter-in-law, Ethel, the younger at eighty-plus.
    “"Can we talk?”" I asked, opening the door.
    Ethel smiled. “"Of course, cupcake.”"
    I grabbed their arms and insinuated myself between them, where the scent of rose water fought with that of baby powder. I sneezed as I walked them to the sofa and sat them down.
    Dolly had deeded me the Underhill building with Ethel’'s approval. Neither of them wanted to pay taxes on it any longer, so that was my price. I’'d paid this year’'s taxes, which were, of course, for last year, but that didn’'t matter. It had been an awesome deal all around. They practically gave me the place.
    “"I have something for Dolly,”" I said. “"And I have a couple of questions for both of you.”" I pulled out the envelope from my storage room cabinet that Dante indicated as Dolly’'s. “"I found this in my storage room, Dolly,”" I said handing it to her. “"It has your name on it.”"
    Dolly’'s hand shook as she fumbled with it then she handed it to me to open. After I did, she pulled out a card. “"Oh!”" she said. “"Oh, I’'ve never been so pleased.”"
    Ethel took the card from her mother-in-law’'s hand as if it was her due. “"A bronze casket and a cemetery plot? Beside your old lover? Are you out of your mind? You know the gossips around here.”"
    Dolly cackled. “"I won’'t be here to care.”"
    “"So you’'re happy about this, Mama? You don’'t want to be laid to rest beside your husband?”"
    “"Your Edward’'s father was an idiot, Ethel. I’'d prefer to spend eternity beside Dante. Consider it my last wish.”"
    “"Oh, please, you’'ve had so many last wishes since you turned a hundred, I’'m keeping a journal collection for your eulogy.”"
    I chuckled, despite myself.
    Dolly pulled me down to the sofa beside her and kissed my cheek. “"Tell him I said yes.”"
    “"Mama, are you losing it?”"
    “"You can tell him yourself whenever you want,”" I said.
    “"I could,”" Dolly said, “"though I’'d hate for him to see me this way.”" Ethel made a weak protest, since we weren’'t making any sense, but I winked at her, so she stopped.
    “"What he’'d see,”" I said, “"is the girl he fell in love with.”" Dolly giggled, the blushing centenarian, and Ethel rolled her eyes. “"You said you had a question for us, cupcake?”"
    “"A question and a request.”"
    “"Anything you want,”" Dolly said, hugging that envelope to her heart. I hated to dim her joy but I needed answers. “"Did you hear what happened tonight at the playhouse?”"
    “"Of course we did. It’'s a shame about Tunney.”"
    “"And Sampson,”" I added.
    “"Sampson never did fit in here,”" Dolly said. “"Transplants rarely do. He only lived here for thirty-three years.”"
    Ethel nodded. “"Grouchy, inhospitable man.”"
    “"Could Tunney have had a motive to do Sampson in, besides Sampson’'s sale to the conglomerate? I mean, since the whole town was mad about that. The playhouse fire started right before Tunney closes his market, and he said that he ran over to help like we did, but he was, unfortunately, still carrying a butcher knife when the police got there.”"
    “"Was there much blood?”" Dolly was one for lapping up the gore. Ethel sniffed. “" Certain people go to the butcher shop after Tunney closes.”" Huh? I felt like a bloodhound who’'d lost the scent. “"Really? Why?”"
    “"You might talk to Sampson’'s sister, Suzanne, about that.”"
    “"Ethel,”" Dolly said. “"You shush.”"
    “"I’'m only telling our little cupcake.”"
    They’'d called me that forever, probably because I ate as many as they made over the years.
    Ethel failed to look contrite, though she tried. “"It’'s true that my suggestion is