Arsenic and Old Cake by Jacklyn Brady Read Free Book Online Page A

Gabriel said. “What does anyone have to be suspicious about?”
    I waved my hand vaguely. “Oh, I don’t know. Everything. Don’t you think people will wonder what we’re doing here?”
    Gabriel cut a glance at me. “Only if you keep looking like we’re up to no good.” He leaned across the seat and kissed me briefly. Flip. He rubbed his thumb gently near the corner of my mouth. “Relax. Act like a bride. You remember how to do that, don’t you?”
    Oh. Yeah. I felt the tingles, but I swatted his hand away and made a face. “I think my skills are a little sharper than yours. At least I’ve been married.”
    Gabriel laughed and opened his car door. “There. See? Sniping at me already. Right in character. Relax, Rita. We’ll be just fine.”
    Easy for him to say. He had the gift of making friends wherever he went.
    He paused with one foot on the pavement and gave me a look. “You want me to call Dog Leg and tell him we’ve changed our minds?”
    I shook my head quickly. “No, I’m just . . .” But I didn’t know how to put my concerns into words. They were so wrapped up in my childhood issues about fitting into a new environment and then the challenges of having married so far over my head, I wasn’t even sure they were valid. I shrugged. “No. Of course not. Just do me a favor. Remind me why we’re doing this?”
    “Because Old Dog Leg needs our help.”
    “Yeah. That’s it. I knew there was a reason.” I stepped out into the bright spring sunlight and adjusted my sunglasses against the glare. “So which one of us is going to get Monroe to strip down so we can check for the birthmark on his back?”
    Gabriel winked and popped the trunk. “I thought I’d leave that to you, honey.”
    “Well,” I said, “I guess it might be a little less weird for me to try getting him naked than for you to do it.”
    Grinning from ear to ear, Gabriel pulled our suitcases from the trunk. “Getting the man naked is optional. All we really need is a look at his shoulder. But hey! Whatever floats your boat.”
    “Leave my boat out of this,” I said. While he extended the handles on our suitcases, I closed the trunk. “Can we be serious for a minute? What if Monroe isn’t who he claims to be? What are we going to do then?”
    “I guess that depends on what else we learn about him along the way,” Gabriel said as we started walking. “We don’t know what we’re going to find here. I think we have to just take it one step at a time.”
    He was probably right, but I’m not fond of going with the flow. I’m much more comfortable when I have a game plan. He was walking quickly, so I put on my best “wife” face—whatever that was—and scurried after him to the front door. He held the door for me, and I stepped into a room that smelled so strongly of carnations and roses it was more like a funeral parlor than a lobby.
    The hardwood floors gleamed, and sunlight spilled into the foyer through tall narrow windows on two of the walls. Several huge vases filled with massive flower arrangements accounted for the heavy floral scent, and a refreshment station out on a small corner table offered coffee, hot water, and an assortment of tea and cocoa packets. The place seemed a bit faded, but it looked clean and comfortable enough.
    An elderly black woman with graying hair cut close to her head looked up as we approached the front desk. She struggled to her feet and shuffled toward us, leaning a set of thick arms on the counter when she reached her destination. She watched us with a scowl so deep it formed several extra chins and hooded—maybe even suspicious—eyes. “Can I help you?”
    In spite of her advanced age, her voice was strong and clear, her eyes sharp and bright.
    Memories of visits to the principal’s office flashed through my head, and I swallowed nervously.
    Gabriel seemed oblivious to her pursed lips and no-nonsense expression. He put on his sexy smile and turned up the Cajun accent. “My wife