Murder Shoots the Bull by Anne George Read Free Book Online

nearby restaurant. Preliminary autopsy reports indicated that she was the victim of poisoning. Police were investigating.
    Goosebumps skittered up my arms and across my shoulders. Sophie Sawyer murdered? Someone had killed the lovely woman I had seen at lunch the day before? I read the paragraph again. Since it was so brief, the news of the death must have barely made the paper’s deadline.
    “God, Mitzi, I can’t believe this. It’s awful. Who was she? One of Arthur’s clients?”
    Mitzi’s head bent to the table. Her hands slid around and clasped behind her neck.
    “His first wife.”
    “His what?” Surely I hadn’t heard right. Her voice was muffled against the table.
    But she looked up and repeated, “His first wife.”
    The words were clear, but they didn’t make sense. Arthur’s first wife? Arthur and Mitzi had been married fortyyears. Fred and I had lived next door to them for much of that time, and no one had ever mentioned a first wife.
    So I said something incredibly stupid. I said, “Are you sure?”
    Mitzi smiled, not much of a smile, but her lips went up at the corners.
    “I’m sure. They were high school sweethearts, and the day after they graduated they ran off to Bremen, Georgia, and got married.”
    “But why haven’t you ever mentioned it?”
    “They never even lived together, Patricia Anne. Their parents had fits when they found out. Arthur’s folks thought he was too young and wouldn’t go on to college like they had planned, and Sophie’s folks were the Vaughn Foundry family. I’m sure they thought Sophie had married way down the social scale.” Mitzi looked around. “Where’s the Kleenex?”
    I handed her a paper napkin.
    “So what happened?”
    She wiped her eyes. “So they had it annulled. Arthur went to the university and met me, and Sophie married a man from Chicago.” She paused. “They really were too young.”
    “Of course they were,” I agreed, still in shock.
    “So it was just something we didn’t talk about. You know?”
    The phone’s ring made me jump. I got up and answered it. It was, of course, Mary Alice.
    “His mustache is not the only thing pencil thin,” she chortled.
    “I’ll have to call you back.” I hung up.
    Mitzi looked up. “Mary Alice?”
    “Just wanting to tell me about her date last night.”
    I picked up the coffee pot, surprised to find my hands shaking. I poured us each a cup of coffee and sat back down.
    “Is that why you’ve looked worried the last few days? Because Sophie’s been back in town?”
    Mitzi seemed surprised. “Have I looked worried?”
    “Worried to death.”
    “No. Sophie’s never been a problem for me. Truthfully. That was over a long time before Arthur and I got married. I guess if I’ve looked worried, it’s because Bridget and Hank are thinking about moving to Atlanta. I just can’t bear the thought of not seeing Andrew Cade every day.”
    Every day? The thought zipped through my mind that this might be the reason for the move. But I dismissed it. Mitzi would never be an interfering mother-in-law.
    “Anyway,” Mitzi put a teaspoonful of sugar into her coffee and stirred it around and around, staring into the cup, “the phone rang about midnight last night. It was Arabella, Sophie’s daughter, saying the police thought Sophie was murdered.” She looked up with tears in her eyes. “It’s awful, Patricia Anne. I’ve never seen Arthur so upset. When he came in from the hospital, he was crying like a baby, and Arthur doesn’t cry. You know that.” She shivered, took the spoon from the coffee and laid it carefully in the saucer. “God, my teeth are chattering.”
    What could I say? I nodded, remembering the gentleness of the hand-stroking and the helping into the car. Maybe first loves really do stay with us.
    “He went over there, to Sophie’s apartment, when Arabella called. Bless his heart, he felt like he had to. But there wasn’t a thing he could do. Arabella and Sue were