For Better or Worsted by Betty Hechtman Read Free Book Online Page B

more questions. Mason jumped into the middle of it, wanting to know what the questions were. Was I really powerless in my own living room?
    “Get your things, Thursday,” Jaimee said. Mason’s ex was fidgeting and tapping her foot, both signs of her impatience.
    “I just wanted to show you some pictures,” Barry said, sliding several sheets out of an envelope and passing them to Thursday. He turned to Mason and Jaimee. “You can look at them, too. They are copies of the photos from the reception your photographer got to me. We’re looking for someone who doesn’t belong.”
    Thursday looked over the pictures and shrugged. “All the serving people looked like robots.” She glanced at her mother, making it clear it had been her idea.
    Jaimee started to defend herself, saying it was the caterer’s idea. “She said it was the trendy thing now to have the men and women look alike. All with slicked-back hair and no makeup or jewelry to set anyone apart. The white gloves were to give it that English butler touch.” Jaimee looked at all of us. “I didn’t know there was going to be a murder, or I would never have made it so easy for someone to slip in.” Her voice had an escalating edge to it. “And I certainly didn’t expect to be detained or called a murderer-in-law,” she said. She took the pictures from her daughter and started going through them. She shrieked when she saw that the photographer had gotten a shot of her sitting in the cake holding the bloody knife, and she pushed them on Mason.
    His eyes were glazed over by the time he’d gone through them all. “With all the people at the reception, and the cookie-cutter help wearing white gloves, I don’t know how you’ll be able to sort out what’s evidence.”
    Barry took the comment as a challenge. “This isn’t one of those TV shows where they pick out a fiber that solves the crime, and it all takes place in a few minutes. But we have our ways,” he said. “Personally, I mostly depend on finding suspects through tips. Somebody remembers something.” He looked at Thursday. “Like you remember that one of the servers looked different or acted a little strange. Then before you know it, we have a good idea who did it. It might take a while to get enough evidence to bring charges, but we know who the guilty party is.”
    He gathered up the proof sheets and slipped them back in the envelope. Jaimee turned to her daughter, who was still sitting on the couch, and gestured for her to get ready to leave.
    Jaimee realized that Thursday wasn’t getting up and repeated another time what she’d said about her daughter getting her things. Thursday shook her head and didn’t move off the couch.
    All the color drained from Jaimee’s face, and I thought she was getting faint again. “But I’m your mother. I’m supposed to be the one you stay with at a time like this.” She looked to Mason. “Do something.”
    Mason looked at me and shrugged. “And you were upset when I kept you out of my family?”
    It was then I noticed that Thursday had the crochet hook and yarn I’d given her in her lap. She picked up the hook and began to work on another coaster as her parents discussed options of where she could stay. Okay, she’d gotten to me. She was the first person I had taught to crochet.
    Thursday looked at her mother. “If I stay with you, I’ll end up in the middle of the
Housewives of Mulholland Drive
.” She turned to her father. “And your house is too much of a reminder of what happened. And the condo Jonah and I were supposed to live in—it would feel too strange. And besides, it belongs to Kingsley Enterprises, so I probably wouldn’t be welcome there anyway.” Her gaze finally rested on me. “I’ll be going back to work in a little over a week, and I’m going to find my own place. But in the meantime, could I stay here? I’d be glad to help with the animals and anything else you need.”
    Jaimee looked horrified, Mason appeared hopeful,