Diners, Drive-Ins, and Death: A Comfort Food Mystery by Christine Wenger Read Free Book Online

at Nick’s body, and my stomach sank. She loved Nick so much, and it was a real shame that her last memory of him had to be of his body covered in a royal blue . . . uh . . . tarp? I’d prefer to think of it as a blanket.
    I motioned to Ty, and he came over. I told him what our plans were, and where we’d be in case he wanted to question us.
    “I want to take your statements as soon as possible.” He looked over at the state police investigators, who were sifting through the dirt. Theyalways called in the troopers for assistance when something big hit Sandy Harbor. Little towns just didn’t have the wealth of technology that the troopers had. “I’ll be over after we finish up everything here.”
    Hal Manning had arrived and was peeking under the tarp covering Nick. He nodded at Joan Paris, and she waved back a greeting in return. Everyone knew that they were living together above the Happy Repose, and that Hal was known to spill some particularly juicy bits of information about the cases he was working on to Joan.
    After a little pillow talk with Hal, Joan might spill to me. In our book club, we discussed much more than books.
    Boy, I sure wanted to find out what happened to Nick. And I was certain that Antoinette Chloe wanted to know even more than I did. She was going to jump out of her flip-flops if she didn’t find out soon.
    Obviously, someone killed Nick, dug a hole, and placed his body there. I had already ruled out suicide, because even if he had dug the hole and killed himself, someone would have had to bury him.
Duh.
    I opened the door of my car for Antoinette Chloe and she got in. Without a word, which was unusual for her, we drove to her house.
    ACB’s Victorian house in the middle of the town was a plethora of paint. Every piece of gingerbread trim had a different color. It stood out on her street like a flashy Vegas showgirl next to a congregation of Amish.
    We went into her house, and though I had been in her home before, every time I visited it was a fresh experience. To say that it was overdosing with boas, hats, fascinators, and tchotchkes is an understatement. Swags of silk flowers were draped everywhere: cabbage roses that somewhat matched her living-room couches; rows of artificial ivy, hibiscus, hydrangea, and other silk flowers that I couldn’t tell the genus or species of the real flower that it was supposed to represent.
    Antoinette Chloe was in a decorating category by herself.
    “Make yourself comfortable, Trixie. I’ll be right back.”
    I went into the kitchen, where at least I could escape some of the kitsch. But even the kitchen was still crammed with several hundred salt and pepper shakers in every shape and size ever made in this country and beyond.
    My head swiveled in awe.
    Then I closed my eyes and thought. The Miss Salmon contestants were arriving in no less than five days. Five!
    About a dozen were moving into my house, and I needed to start getting things ready. I figured I would rally ACB to help me, as it would force her to take her mind off Nick. Besides, in the committee meeting, she said she would chaperone and cook. But first I needed her to be a maid . . . er . . . a room attendant and help me to get the rooms ready.
    And she needed to move in to her room. Our two rooms were off-limits to everyone but us two.
    Speaking of which, I wondered how ACB’s new chef was working out at her restaurant. I’d have to remind her to check, or we could swing by.
    I heard a thump, then another. The noise was coming from upstairs. Hurrying to the stairway, I had to dodge black plastic garbage bags being tossed over the railing.
    When ACB came into view with two other bags, I shouted up to her. “What’s all this?”
    “My muumuus and flip-flops. I won’t toss my suitcases. I’ll put my makeup and nail polish and accessories in those. Speaking of my nails, I’m missing my pinkie nail from my Salute to Glitter gel nail kit.”
    I couldn’t care less about her