Perilous Curves Collection (BBW Romance) by Christa Wick

exactly how it worked.
    "Now they just talk about killers and liquor stores and I don't understand half of what they're saying!" She jabbed a frail finger at the front page of the community section until something caught her eye. "Didn't you used to know a boy named Serrano?"
    I coughed, spraying some of the coffee I'd been swallowing. Some came out from my nose, stinging so sharply my eyes teared up. "A long time ago, momma."
    "Daniel, was that it?"
    I didn't correct her, just reached my hand out for the paper. Momma wasn't ready to let it go.
    "Yes, Daniel. That was it. A nice Italian boy. Not this fellow, then."
    Nerves snapping like bacon in a frying pan, I pinched an edge of the paper. "Can I have it?"
    "Of course, dear." Relinquishing the paper, she arched her head to one side and gazed through the window at the morning summer sky. "Such a beautiful day already. I think I'll go to the boathouse."
    Not listening, I skimmed through the article detailing a cabbie's story about how he had picked up Dante Serrano, father of the accused murderer Alexander Serrano, at the Jackson House and driven him around on a night filled with liquor stores and cemeteries. The store clerk at Bishop’s confirmed a man looking like Serrano had bought a bottle of MD 20/20 and the valet at the hotel confirmed that Serrano, whom he knew by sight, had been dropped off by an "unidentified woman." The reporter ended with a query to readers of just why Dante Serrano had visited the cemetery -- was he visiting a grave, and whose grave, after hours, or could the cemetery possibly contain evidence linked to the death of his foreman?
    "Idiot!" The word shot out of my mouth and I froze.
    Momma looked at me with big, startled eyes. "You don't think it's a good idea?"
    "Sorry, momma." I shook the paper. "It's just like you said, the paper's gone to h-e-double-l. What were you talking about?"
    "They don't even cover the cotillions anymore." Momma gave a righteous nod about the state of the Masonville Times before repeating herself. "I said I might go to the boathouse this afternoon."
    I paused, searching for just the right thing to say. I could say nothing. Chances were momma would forget her plans. Instead, I opted for half the truth, knowing it did no good to ignore her memory lapses. "We don't own the boathouse anymore."
    "Silly," she laughed. "Just because you haven't been out there in a while--"
    "We sold it ten years ago..." I let the idea sink in, hoping she wouldn't remember that it had been sold through the estate agent after daddy's death. I stood and crossed the kitchen. I removed a lock box from a drawer, opened it and then opened each of the narrow prescription bottles inside to shake out a pill.
    Returning to the table, I sat alongside momma and put the pills on the table.
    "I've taken my medicine this morning." She pushed the pills back towards me.
    I held the key to the lock box up. "You know Ivy and I are the only ones with a key. And Ivy's not here yet."
    Momma put the first pill in her mouth and swallowed it with a sip of orange juice. "Ivy? Is she that maid you hired?"
    I pressed my lips together a few seconds before answering. "Please don't call her a maid, momma. She's a health professional."
    As she had so many days since Ivy's hiring, momma reached out and put her hand on my arm. Her eyes were big again and her lips trembled as she asked, "Are you sick, Ladybug?"
    "I...no, momma." I looked down at my watch, hoping Ivy would be on time like she always was. I still needed to get my dry cleaning on the way to the court house.
    When I heard Ivy's truck in the drive, I almost whooped with relief. The feeling was quickly flooded by guilt. If I hadn't been so intent on staying away from Masonville, with its reminders of Dante, I would have made more trips back home, would have noticed the symptoms far earlier. It wasn't momma's fault the past was sometimes a blur. I had been a shitty daughter in that respect.
    I put my arms around momma and