0425273059 by Miranda James Read Free Book Online

like in the Agatha Christie book, that was unlucky . She had a sip of her sweet iced tea and glanced at Benjy, seated to her left. He seemed a bit overwhelmed by the assembled company, and she didn’t blame him. With the exception of Mireille and Jacqueline, no one had made much of an effort to speak to him or make him feel welcome. The atmosphere in the room felt oppressive, and Dickce had little urge to talk herself.
    From across the table, Lance kept gazing vacantly at Benjy and not paying much attention to Sondra on his right. Sondra, directly across from Dickce, appeared not to noticethe older woman’s presence. Instead, Sondra, too, gazed at Benjy, but not vacantly. Predatorily , Dickce decided, and then wondered if that was an actual word. Poor Benjy .
    At the head of the table, as befit her position as mistress of Willowbank, Mireille looked splendid in lilac silk. Dickce had always admired the pearl necklace and earrings Mireille wore. They had belonged to Mireille’s great-great-grandmother and were worth a fortune. Dickce didn’t think it was her imagination that Horace Mims, seated on Mireille’s right, kept gazing hungrily at the jewels. They would someday belong to Jacqueline, his wife, but Dickce had the oddest feeling Horace would like to have them in his fat, clammy hands right now.
    To Mireille’s left sat Richmond Thurston, an old friend of Terence Delevan’s and a prominent attorney in St. Ignatiusville. He had been best man at Terence and Jacqueline’s wedding, and he was also Sondra’s godfather. Dickce thought him a fine figure of a man—tall, stately, with an imposing presence. His dark hair sprinkled liberally with gray, he had a beak of a nose that gave his face character. Unlike poor Horace, Dickce thought, who looked more like the Michelin Man or the Pillsbury Doughboy. What Jacqueline saw in him—other than his money—Dickce hadn’t a clue. Where Richmond Thurston was urbane and sophisticated, Horace Mims was provincial and crass. Dickce and An’gel had often wondered why Jacqueline hadn’t married Thurston. He wasn’t as rich as Horace, but he was far more attractive.
    No accounting for taste , Dickce thought. She tuned back into the conversation—more like a monologue, sherealized, as Horace appeared to be winding down a tedious story about some deal he had made and how he’d made mincemeat out of the other man.
    “Guy was ready to lick my boots and thank me for the privilege by the time I got through with him,” Horace said with a nasty grin.
    “You’re a hard man, Horace.” Thurston smiled. “Can’t tell you how happy I am we’re not in the same business.”
    “Horace is such a hard worker,” Jacqueline said. “He’s always working on some new deal or other.”
    Dickce thought she detected a note of complaint in Jacqueline’s voice. Perhaps Horace spent more time on his business than he did on his marriage. Dickce wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.
    “That sure is the truth, darling.” Horace beamed across the table at his wife. “Takes every bit of money I earn selling cars to make sure you got everything you need. When you got a beautiful wife, you want to make sure and show her off to everybody.”
    Jacqueline blushed and reached with a not quite steady hand for her wineglass. “Thank you, Horace. You’ve very sweet to say such things. But we should be talking about Sondra and what a beautiful bride she will be.”
    “About time,” Sondra muttered.
    Dickce glanced at the girl sharply, then at Jacqueline. She didn’t think Jacqueline had heard her daughter’s rude remark.
    Lance continued to appear oblivious to the scene around him as he gazed across the table at Benjy. Benjy seemed fascinated with his food and was not paying attention toLance. Dickce gave his arm a surreptitious pat, and he flashed her a grateful smile.
    “Yes, Sondra will be the most beautiful bride St. Ignatiusville has ever seen—at least since her mother walked down