Miz Scarlet and the Holiday Houseguests (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery #3) by Sara M. Barton Page A

Jessup had that injury and Marston was embroiled in that
embarrassing fiasco down at spring training.” Bur sat down on the
chair by the console table, took off his knit cap, and ran a hand
through his thick bangs. “I can’t believe he’s your
father.”
    “Are you going to be okay with that?”
Larry seemed to be studying him the way she might study a suspect
about to flee. “I need to know, because I can make other
arrangements if....”
    “Wow, I’m going to meet Leaping Larry
the Lawnmower,” he sighed. Was that awe in my brother’s
voice?
    “It sounds like Grandpa’s got an
admirer,” Mickey laughed. Larry and I were still waiting for the
other shoe to drop. Could it really be this easy to transform a
diehard Yankees fan?
    “So, you’ll pick him up at the
airport?” the homicide investigator inquired.
    “Oh, sure. Anything for you,
Larry.”
    “You can take my car, Bur,” I offered.
Decked out in the Four Acorns logo, my trusty Ford hatchback was
the official inn vehicle and wouldn’t offend the assistant baseball
coach. It also happened to have more trunk room that Bur’s rather
sporty set of wheels.
    “Yeah, sure...whatever. Wow, I can’t
believe I’m going to meet a baseball legend. What a great
Christmas!”
    “Who knew?” Laughing, I turned to
mother and daughter. “We wasted all this time worrying about
whether they’d get along.”
    “Believe me, it wasn’t wasted time. You
folks still haven’t met Leaping Larry the Lawnmower.”
    “Oh?”
    “He’s a tough, old goat.” The coach’s
daughter shook her head. “Hard-headed, stubborn, and bossy...talk
about bossy! The man’s a maniac when it comes to
baseball!”
    “I know!” Bur gushed, like a high
school boy about to meet one of his childhood heroes. “He’s a
walking encyclopedia of baseball history. I can’t wait to talk to
him.”
    “And bend his ear,” I added, rolling my
eyes towards the heavens. “That might not be a good
idea.”
    “Are you kidding?” Mickey giggled. “If
there’s one thing Grandpa loves, it’s talking about baseball. He’ll
even tell you all about the importance of the stitching on the
ball, if you let him.”
    “On that note, I’ve got to get going.
I’m interviewing witnesses.” Larry wrapped Michaela up in a loving
hug and kissed her cheek, threw an affectionate arm around me, and
then leaned down and planted a sisterly kiss on Burr’s forehead.
His timing was off and he just missed brushing his lips on hers by
a fraction of a second.
    “Be careful,” I told her, as I saw her
to the door. “Tread lightly through that quicksand in the
swamp.”
    “I will, Miz Scarlet. And thanks again
for looking after my kid.”
    “Are you kidding? My mother is already
going through ‘Jenny withdrawal’. She’s miserable whenever there
isn’t a crowd here around for the holidays.”
    “By the time the Rivera clan leaves,
she may regret that.”
    “Nonsense.” As I opened the door, I
felt the chill penetrate my bones. The air was heavy with moisture
and the conditions were ripe for a killer snowstorm. Larry noticed
it, too.
    “I just hope Edna’s flight isn’t
canceled. All I’d need is for Big Larry to be here for Christmas
and have my mother stuck in Atlanta. Santa might as well give me a
cemetery plot, because I’ll be a goner.”
    “When’s she arriving?”
    “First thing Saturday morning. Lucky
for me, my father will be on his way to Boston with
Mickey.”
    “Mickey....Oh, good heavens!” Bur
suddenly exclaimed, dancing around the baffled teenager. “Were you
named after Mantle?”
    “That’s my cue. I’m out of here.” As
Larry’s hand turned the door knob, she gave a final instruction to
her daughter. “You get to bed at a reasonable hour, young lady. And
you’re home by ten.”
    “You named your daughter after Mickey
Mantle, the Yankee center fielder?” Bur wasn’t going to let it go.
“You naughty girl!”
    “Her name is Michaela and you’ll never
prove