Murder Unmentionable by Meg London Read Free Book Online Page B

head with your aunt’s walking stick.”

STUNNED silence greeted Officer Kenny’s pronouncement. Then everyone began talking at once. Emma sputtered, she was so mad. Arabella hissed and Brian bellowed. They sounded like a steam engine roaring to life.
    Before any of them could complete a sentence, Kenny was at the front door of Sweet Nothings. “Coroner’s here,” he called over his shoulder as he ushered in a stoop-shouldered man with untidy gray hair.
    “District attorney’s on his way,” the coroner said, pulling a pen from his shirt pocket. “Luckily, I was just down the block getting a cup of coffee.” He approached Guy’s body. “What have we got here?”
    “You might not want to watch this,” Kenny said to Emma, Arabella and Brian. “Why don’t you go on down to The Coffee Klatch and get something to drink?”
    Emma looked down at her yoga pants. At least she wasn’t in her pajamas. She would be more than glad to get awayfrom Sweet Nothings and Guy’s body. The longer she stayed, the more real things became.
    “I’ll just go put Pierre in his crate.” Arabella looked at Pierre and he lowered his head and obediently followed her into the back room.
    As soon as Arabella rejoined them, they trooped out the door and into the warm, humid morning air. Emma had started to shake and the warmth felt good.
    They were closing the door behind them when they saw someone waving from across the street. Emma didn’t recognize him, and she stared, puzzled, as the man darted across Washington Street, just missing a red minivan that had to swerve to avoid him.
    He stopped in front of them, breathless and panting. “Is everything all right? I saw the police and I couldn’t imagine what had happened.” He glanced at Arabella. “I was so afraid you’d taken ill or something.” He smoothed a hand across his head where several long strands of white hair had blown across to the wrong side.
    Arabella gave a dry smile. “Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” She turned toward Emma and Brian. “Les, this is my niece, Emma. She’s down from New York to help with my shop. And this,” she said, turning toward Brian, “is Brian O’Connell. He’s helping with the renovations. His father owns O’Connell’s Hardware.”
    Arabella turned toward the small, dapper gentleman at her side. “And this is Les Wallace. He runs The Toggery just down the street.”
    Emma looked from Les to Arabella and back again. Was Les a gentleman caller, as they used to say in the old days? There was a twinkle in Arabella’s eye that hadn’t been there before, and Emma swore her cheeks had a faint blush to them. Of course, it could have been the heat, but somehow she didn’t think so.
    “We’re on our way to The Coffee Klatch. Would you care to join us?”
    “But what’s happened?” Les spluttered, adjusting his tie, which had become slightly askew in his dash across the street. “What are the police doing outside your shop?”
    “Come with us.” Arabella linked her arm through his. “And I’ll tell you all about it.” She glanced over her shoulder where a small crowd of people had gathered in front of Sweet Nothings. “It’s probably best if we keep this among ourselves for as long as we can.”
    That won’t be long
, Emma thought, remembering how quickly word of Guy’s arrival had spread.
    FOR most of its life The Coffee Klatch had been known simply as The Paris Diner, and several of the letters were still faintly visible behind the sign announcing its new name. Although the name had been changed, the staff and customers remained much the same. The young couple that had taken over the diner after the previous owner died had invested in a fancy espresso/cappuccino maker that retained its original polish these many years later. Orders for anything fancier than coffee with cream and sugar were few and far between. And despite now being called “baristas,” the waitresses still wore frilly white aprons and called