Scone Cold Dead by Kaitlyn Dunnett Read Free Book Online Page A

Tandy revealed when he took off his hat. He wore it trimmed very short, a good match for his almost military bearing.
    Definitely not her type!
    â€œThis way,” Liss said when she’d hung his coat and hat in the closet, and led the way to the kitchen. Lumpkin, she noticed, was still sound asleep on top of the refrigerator. “Coffee?”
    â€œThat would be great. Thanks.”
    His smile was warm, and there was something in his eyes—so dark a brown that they almost looked black—that made Liss think he might disagree with Dan’s opinion of the way she looked in the caftan.
    She found the notion that he thought her attractive an agreeable one, but suspected it was a delusion induced by lack of caffeine. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not too coherent yet,” she apologized as she reached for the coffeepot. “It was a late night and I’m not fully awake. I have two houseguests. Members of the dance troupe. Do you want to talk to them, too?”
    â€œI’d like to ask you a few questions first. Alone.”
    Something in his tone sounded ominous. Frowning, Liss filled another mug and topped off her own. She gestured toward the table, brought the coffees over, and took a chair for herself.
    â€œVictor Owens’s death was not an accident,” Tandy said as soon as he was seated.
    Liss heard what he said but her mind refused to take it in. “He had food allergies—”
    â€œYes. And that’s how he was killed. There was mushroom filling in the scone he was eating just before he died.”
    Very slowly, Liss lowered her coffee mug. The small sip she’d taken had turned to acid in her mouth. With an effort, she swallowed. “That’s impossible. The cocktail scones Janice Eccles supplied were made with sweet fillings. And she knew about Victor’s mushroom allergy. Everyone who supplied food for the reception knew. I told them myself. None of them are idiots. They know how careful they have to be about things like that.”
    â€œAs I said, this wasn’t an accident. Our best guess right now is that someone slipped a batch of their own scones in with Mrs. Eccles’s creations.”
    â€œYou’re saying someone murdered him?”
    â€œI’m saying someone murdered him.”
    For a moment Liss didn’t say a word, although several unprintable ones were whirling around in her head. Victor’s death had been bad enough, but this . . .
    Tandy cleared his throat. “There’s more. It doesn’t appear to have been just a tragic oversight on Mr. Owens’s part that he didn’t have epinephrine on him when he needed it. An EpiPen was found in a wastepaper basket in the Student Center, wiped clean of fingerprints.”
    â€œGood Lord!” In her pleasant kitchen, redolent with freshly brewed coffee, Liss found this new revelation even harder to accept than the idea that someone had deliberately planned Victor’s death. She toyed with the nubbly edge of her place mat, trying to wrap her mind around what Gordon Tandy was telling her. She didn’t want to believe him, but what choice did she have? He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t true. Victor had been murdered.
    â€œI understand you knew the victim fairly well,” Tandy said.
    â€œI worked for him for about eight years, if that’s what you mean. He was the manager of Strathspey .”
    â€œDid you get along with him?” Tandy did not have a notebook out or a tape recorder turned on—unless it was small enough to be hidden in his jacket pocket—but Liss had the feeling he was keeping close track of everything she said. He drank his coffee, watching her over the rim of the bright green ceramic mug.
    â€œMost of the time. He was . . . temperamental.” She leaned closer to the table. “This doesn’t make any sense. Victor could be a pain in the ass, okay? And he came on too strong with women