Law and Author (25 page)

Lizzie pulled some more tissues out of the box and handed them to Darla just in time. She flung herself into her granddad's arms.

“I will. I promise. I promise,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

Molly wiped away a tear from her cheek as she stood. “I think I'll go see about some supper.”

She laughed. “You know something? I am, too.”

CHRISTMAS MOURNING—
MARGARET MARON

L
izzie brought the final bowl of salad outside, this one a sweet potato salad, and placed it on the serving table next to the others. She looked over all the food waiting to be enjoyed. For a supper called together at the last minute, this one looked like the planning had gone on all week. Maybe that's what they should do for the Easter Sunday dinner Molly had insisted on hosting on the weekend. She looked over to the grill, where Bob, Mark and Jacob were discussing the merits of splashing beer on the burgers.

Molly had been persuaded to sit and enjoy her cold glass of white Sauvignon Blanc while Sally-Jo set the table. Stephanie, Andie and Darla sat on a blanket on the grass, playing with baby Wendy.

What a contented-looking scene, Lizzie thought. And to think that just a couple of hours before it was turmoil. Molly
had thought to invite the book club over to help celebrate the wrapping up of the case and also, to help divert Darla's mind from what had gone on that day. Everyone had eagerly accepted and come bearing gifts of food. Lizzie was sure the deli counter at the Winn-Dixie had been emptied by now.

“Yoo-hoo. I hear there's a party going on,” Teensy called out as she stepped out of the kitchen.

“I'm so glad you got my message,” Molly answered. She pointed to the bottle of wine on the table. “Help yourself.”

“Oh, Mopsy. You can be sure. I just wanted to bring this little dessert to the celebration.”

She placed a glass cake container at the end of the table with the other desserts and popped off the cover. “Voilà!”

Molly, Lizzie and Sally-Jo gathered around.

“Why, Teensy, how sweet,” Molly said, and waited until Teensy had poured her wine before clinking glasses with her.

Sally-Jo elbowed Lizzie as she read the message atop the cake.
Go hog wild.

“Anybody hungry?” Bob called out. He looked over at Darla, and the relief on his face was visible. She looked carefree and as young as Andie as she lay flat out on the ground, playing with Wendy.

“I surely am,” Teensy replied, grabbing a plate and easing up to Bob. “I know you have fish-cooking skills but I haven't tasted your burgers yet.”

“You are in for a treat, ma'am.”

“I'm always ready for a treat.” She laughed as she headed back to the table to fill her plate with the salads.

When they all had their food and drinks in hand, Bob called for everyone's attention. “I'd just like to say something quickly. A small toast.” He held up his glass. “To family and friends. Which really are one and the same.”

Molly squeezed his hand and Teensy kicked Lizzie under
the table, motioning toward the two with her head. Lizzie grinned and shook her head.

“So tell me, Sally-Jo, is everything all settled in the mama department for the wedding? Or should I be asking?” Teensy looked across the table at Sally-Jo as she asked.

Sally-Jo swallowed before answering. “It is, Teensy. And it's safe to talk about it. Mama turned out to be sort of reasonable after all was said and done.”

“You got the dress of your choice?”

“Yes'm, I did.”

“And the trade-off? She gets to keep her limbs intact?”

Jacob laughed and answered for Sally-Jo. “I don't even think they came to blows, Teensy. Mama gives on the dress and gets to take over the food.”

Teensy rolled her eyes. “Oh boy, you kids are such suckers.”

Lizzie kicked Teensy under the table and gave her head a quick shake when she looked at her.

“Just kidding,” Teensy said quickly. “I'm so glad there's peace in the family. In all families,” she added, looking over at Darla.

“Well, it might be short-lived,” Jacob said, getting up to refill his plate.

“How so?” Molly asked.

“Can I tell them?” he asked Sally-Jo, who nodded. “Mama doesn't yet know that we've decided to elope. And the date is going to be a secret. We'll still go ahead with the church ceremony and all the reception plans so that there's all the hoopla. But it's turned into such a circus and we want this to be a very special time, just for us.”

“Does that sound mean or selfish?” Sally-Jo asked.

Lizzie reached across and touched Sally-Jo's arm. “I think you have to do what's right for you two. It is your special time.”

“You can say that again,” Jacob agreed, sitting back down beside Sally-Jo and putting his arm around her. “It's been an emotional roller coaster for Sally-Jo, who always tries to please everyone. I think she's entitled to please herself this time.”

“Whoo-hoo,” Teensy shrieked, clapping her hands.

The others didn't know what to say but their smiles said it all.

Mark put his arm across the back of Lizzie's chair and leaned close to her ear.

“They may be onto something,” he
whispered.

Lizzie Turner

1. Victoria Abbott—
   The Wolfe Widow
   
2. Julie Hyzy—
   Grace Against the Clock
   
3. Eva Gates—
   By Book or By Crook
   
4. Jacklyn Brady—
   Rebel Without a Cake
   
5. Ellery Adams—
   Murder in the Mystery Suite
   

Sally-Jo Baker

1. Rosie Genova—
   The Wedding Soup Murder
   
2. Nancy J. Parra—
   Engaged in Murder
   
3. Beverly Allen—
   Bloom and Doom
   
4. Cleo Coyle—
   Espresso Shot
   
5. Leann Sweeney—
   A Wedding to Die For
   

Molly Mathews

1. Jacqueline Winspear—
   Leaving Everything Most Loved
   
2. Rhys Bowen—
   Heirs and Graces
   
3. Susan Wittig Albert—
   The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star
   
4. John Curran—
   Agatha Christie's Secret Notebooks
   
5. Carolyn Hart—
   Death at the Door
   

Bob Miller

1. John Sandford—
   Storm Front
   
2. Bill Pronzini—
   Strangers
   
3. Craig Johnson—
   A Serpent's Tooth
   
4. Randy Wayne White—
   Deceived
   
5. Carol O'Connell—
   It Happens in the Dark
   

Stephanie Lowe

1. Carolyn Hart—
   Ghost Gone Wild
   
2. Kylie Logan—
   The Legend of Sleepy Harlow
   
3. Daryl Wood Gerber—
   Stirring the Plot
   
4. Lisa Spellman—
   Spellman Six: The Next Generation
   
5. Catriona McPherson—
   Dandy Gilver and a Bothersome Number of Corpses
   

Andrea Mason

1. Janet Evanovich—
   Top Secret Twenty-One
   
2. Leigh Perry—
   The Skeleton Takes a Bow
   
3. Heather Blake—
   One Potion in the Grave
   
4. Dawn Eastman—
   Be Careful What You Witch For
   
5. Victoria Laurie—
   No Ghouls Allowed
   

Jacob Smith

1. Paul Christopher—
   Secret of the Templars
   
2. Stuart Woods—
   Standup Guy
   
3. David Rosenfelt—
   Hounded
   
4. Robert Rotenberg—
   Stray Bullets
   
5. Christopher Buehlman—
   Those Across the River
   

Turn the page for a preview of the first book in a brand new series from Erika Chase writing as Linda Wiken,

available soon from Berkley Prime
Crime

“L
et's see: Canadian, French, Greek. Here we go, Italian,” J.J. said softly to herself as she walked along the aisle at the nearby Barnes & Noble. She had stopped by after work on her way home. She needed that cookbook tonight.

She scanned the titles and authors, pulling out the ones that looked of interest to flip through. She liked looking at the pictures. That was her downfall. While she loved the whole idea of cooking elaborate meals, her forte was in the reading of cookbooks. She had an entire, although small, bookcase at home filled with cookbooks, but only those with large and colorful photos of the dishes. And, although her friend Evan Thornton had persuaded her to join the Culinary Capers dinner club, she secretly believed she would never have caved if it hadn't been for this one weakness. The one
obsession that cost her money but was not a vice: cookbooks. Now she could really indulge it without a twinge of guilt.

She grinned as she started flipping through the pages of
Nigellissima
by Nigella Lawson. Great photos, easy-to-read recipes—although she had no idea how complicated they might be—and best of all, Italian foods. She quickly scanned the rest of the cookbook section and then made her way to the checkout clutching her prize. It would be an Italian night at Casa Tanner.

She drove home quickly, unlocked the door to her apartment and slid through before Asia, her two-year-old Bengal cat, could dash out into the hallway. That had happened on more than one occasion, the test of wills: one demanding to be outside and on the prowl, the other insisting that Asia was an indoor cat. J.J. had compromised by setting up a portion of her large wraparound balcony as a cat playground complete with a large patch of real grass. Of course, the mesh blocking the sides and top were what gave J.J. peace of mind. Asia didn't seem to mind too much, except when trying to catch a bird midflight.

She checked her phone messages—nothing important—and then dished out some canned food for Asia and tossed a green salad for herself.

As she ate, she eyed her briefcase on the floor by the kitchen counter. No, she wouldn't go over that budget tonight. She didn't even know why she'd brought it home. She'd made herself a promise when she left her old life behind—no more working days and nights on a project. Her own life was as important as her job. She would be kinder to herself.

She found herself thinking back to her days as an account executive with the high-profile advertising agency McCracken and Watts in Montpelier, Vermont. Just before she got bogged
down, once again, in thoughts about Patrick Jenner, her ex-fiancé, she shook her head and reached over to pull her new cookbook out of its bag. She ran her hand gently over the cover before opening it. She had to admit, she was a cookbook junkie. She loved the colors, the travelogue that accompanied her favorites from overseas, and the feeling that she actually knew her food. She did realize, though, that loving cookbooks did not a good cook make. Oh, what she'd give for osmosis. She sighed and finished eating her salad. She couldn't wait to share
Nigellissima
with the others.

*   *   *

J
.J. sipped her espresso while watching the dwindling lineup of people ordering their coffee and hopefully, for the staff, something sweet to go with it. Beth Brickner kept smiling although J.J. bet her feet hurt by now. It was eleven
A
.
M
.
and the Cups 'n Roses coffee bar had opened at seven. J.J. knew that Beth tended the front counter with the help of one barista for the first couple of hours. After that, the part-timers started their shifts but Beth held her ground at the cash. She enjoyed the customers, as she'd once said.

As if she realized she was being watched, Beth looked over and smiled, transforming her face from looking its sixty-two years to about twenty years younger, J.J. thought. She smiled in return. Her attention shifted to the front door and the two people walking through it: Connor Mac and Alison Manovich, two more of the Culinary Capers members. When Evan Thornton arrived, Beth would slip away from her duties and join the four others for their monthly planning meeting.

Connor, after collecting his usual mochaccino, slid in beside J.J. in the group's regular booth, which formed a semicircle in the right corner of the shop, mostly facing the
street. It was J.J.'s favorite spot, allowing her to watch the passersby and, admittedly, leading to distractions at times, especially when the discussion focused on cooking techniques.

“You're looking great, J.J.,” Connor said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “I've been meaning to call you but the week just slipped by. Are you free for dinner tonight?”

J.J. gave about two seconds' thought to playing hard to get. After all, Connor was gorgeous and was probably used to women falling all over him. And what self-respecting single gal would admit to being available at the last minute on a Saturday night? But she felt comfortable with Connor and she knew that after about six months of dating, this was as exciting as it would get between them. Dinner would be good and she said so.

“Great. I'll pick you up at six? Thought we'd try that new spot downtown, the Hidden Keg.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “In fact, I second-guessed you and already made reservations. Hope you don't take that the wrong way.”

J.J. shrugged. “Of course not. They'd be easy enough to cancel if I said no and you couldn't find another date.” She was teasing him and he knew it.

“Okay. See this spot over here on the bench?” He pointed beside him and slid over the few inches. “I know my place.”

“And I know my place is in this chair,” Alison said, setting her plate with two sour cream twists down beside her mug of regular coffee. “Hey, J.J. How's it going?”

“Good although hectic. What about you, Alison? Keeping the bad guys in their places?”

Alison sighed, took a long sip, and sat back in the chair. She looked like a teenager when she went casual, like the jeans she wore with a T-shirt and hoodie over it. Her police uniform seemed to add several years along with that
necessary air of authority. “Tell me about it. For a small village, Half Moon Bay does have more than its share of looneys, I sometimes think.”

“As long as they're not dangerous,” Connor muttered.

“No, they're usually not. They seem to leave their weapons behind. Or they're saving them for downtown Burlington. Thankfully.”

J.J. hadn't noticed Evan entering until he slid in beside her on the other side, placing a medium cappuccino in front of her. “Beth says this'll save you having to get up and fetch your own. She'll be right over. Howdy, all.”

“Wow, Evan. Is that a swath of gray I spy in your hair?” Alison asked playfully.

Evan ran his right hand lightly over the spot in his short red hair. “It is. Do you think it makes me look more worldly?”

Alison took a closer look. “Not really, sorry.”

“All right, how about more scholarly? I'll settle for that.”

“Oh, definitely,” Alison agreed and took a quick sip, almost covering her grin.

“Huh.”

“Well, I think it makes you look worldly, scholarly and older, which translates into trustworthy, even with the freckles,” Beth added, taking the empty chair beside Alison. She missed Evan's grimace but knew it would be his response. “Keep it, Evan. It really looks good, whatever the adjective.”

Evan smiled. “Why, thank you, Beth, arbiter of good taste.”

“Oh, boy. Before we get carried away with the niceties,” J.J. interjected, “can I say good morning to you all and introduce you to Nigella Lawson?” She flipped over the cookbook she'd had sitting on the table in front of her, and balanced it upright. “
Nigellissima
is my choice for the next Culinary Capers dinner.”

She glanced around from one club member to the other,
hoping to see her own excitement mirrored in each of the faces. Okay, that might have been asking too much. No one ever leaped up for joy right at first. She started flipping through the pages. “Great photos, aren't they? I'll pass it around and you can all have a more thorough look. I bought it just last night so I haven't had time to really read it through carefully but I might go with the beef pizzaiola. So, if I do the meat dish, we need a pasta to start with, and after my pièce de résistance—I know I'm mixing my countries here—two side dishes, and dessert.”

Beth looked at the index in the back of the book, running her finger slowly down the names of the dishes. “This looks like it could be fun.”

She passed it to Alison, who did the same. After the book had made its way around the table, J.J. leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. Her desire that they should all buy into this choice had intensified as the others had checked it out. “So, what say you? Is it a go?”

Connor laughed. “You are into this one, aren't you? As I remember, last time you winced and shrugged your way through our checking out the book.”

J.J. sighed. “You're right. Last time I just chose something I thought would be doable. This time, I'm enthralled looking through the cookbook and I'm hoping that will translate into a delectable meal.”

“Well, if that's the vibe you're getting, then I'd say we should all be on board,” Evan said. “I vote yes.” He looked around the table and the others nodded their agreement. “There. A done deal, J.J.”

“Great. You don't mind getting your own copies of this book even though it's at the upper end of the price range we set?”

Alison finished her cappuccino before speaking. “I'll
probably just borrow it from the library again. But I'm happy to try out a side dish.”

“Dibs on dessert,” Beth added.

“Guess I'll take the other side dish and we'll confer, Alison,” Connor said. “What does that leave for Evan?'

“How about the pasta?” J.J. suggested.

Evan thought about it for less than a minute. His eyes lit up as he announced, “I've been thinking lately about buying a pasta machine to make my own fresh pasta. This is the kick in the pants I need to do just that. Besides, Michael can't object to the expense if it's for the dinner club.” He grinned.

“I can't picture Michael objecting to anything you decide to do.” Beth had taken on that motherly tone she sometimes used with Evan. J.J. wondered if he noticed it. If he did, he never let on. Or maybe he enjoyed it.

Even though Beth was at least two decades older than the others, retired from being a high school music teacher for five years and now the owner of the Cups 'n Roses for two years, the difference in ages wasn't a big deal.

“That's great. So,
Nigellissima
it is, and we feast on these wonderful recipes at my place in four weeks.”

Heaven help
me.