The Angel Whispered Danger by Mignon F. Ballard Read Free Book Online

had always reminded me of a wire brush, but today I noticed it didn’t look as bristly as usual, and he’d finally replaced those awful black rims on his glasses. If I didn’t know better, I’d never guess he would soon be seventy-six.
    “This good old mountain air will build up your appetite,” he said, moving his feet to make room for me on the lopsided hassock.
    Fine. As long as I don’t have to eat Ella’s cooking
, I thought, looking around for the housekeeper.
    “Leona’s out in the kitchen looking for some kind of rabbit food,” Uncle Ernest said, following my gaze. “I think Lum went out back to see if he could find any ripe tomatoes.”
    “But I thought we were having barbecue tonight.” My stomach wanted to turn around and go home. I thought of Augusta’s light-as-clouds pancakes.
    My uncle laid aside a book heavy enough to give you a hernia, and I could tell by the dog-eared pages he probably knew most of it by heart. “Barbecue? Oh, we are! You’ll have to thank your uncle Lum for that. Leona was planning to feed us something with frozen vegetables and imitation cheese.” He made a face. “Thank God he put a stop to that! Leona’s in a snit, I reckon—can’t be helped. Why don’t you go see if you can’t mellow her up a bit?”
    I said I’d try, although I thought that was more in Grady’s line. He’d been wrapping his mama around his finger so long, she oughta have a shape like a corkscrew, but he had disappeared upstairs.
    I got a whiff of Aunt Leona’s Misty Glade perfume and followed my nose to the kitchen where I found her standing on a stool with her head inside a cabinet. She turned when she heard me enter and almost toppled off her perch.
    “Whoa!” I rushed to steady her. “You taking inventory?”
    “No, but somebody should. I don’t know when’s the last time Ella’s cleaned these cabinets. I was looking for some pickles to go in my egg salad, but all I could find was a jar of olives, and no telling how long that’s been in there.” My aunt accepted my hand as she stepped down. In spite of her exploration into Ella’s dusty realm, Leona’s crisp, white blouse remained spotless, and her blue Barbie-size slacks had creases sharp enough to slice you in two.
    “Olives should still be okay,” I said, turning my head to avoid the cloying Misty Glade.
    Aunt Leona’s expression told me she’d sooner eat river mud and she muttered something about fat and calories.
    “Saw Grady out front,” I said. “Looks great. The big city must agree with him.” My cousin had moved up a couple of rungs in his company when he accepted a position in Chattanooga the year before.
    She nodded, pride beaming from every pore. She and Uncle Lum had adopted Grady when he was eight and slathered so much attention on him, it’s a wonder he hadn’t turned out rotten through and through. But he hadn’t, and I’d been grateful during our growing-up years for an ally against the obnoxious Deedee.
    “I just wish he’d settle down now. It’s time.” Aunt Leona got eggs from the refrigerator and set them to boil.
    “Is he seeing anybody special?” I asked.
    “Not that I know of. Especially after what happened to Beverly. Grady thought—well, we all thought something might come of that.”
    “A shame he didn’t go up there to see her,” I said. My mother had told me the two only communicated from a distance.
    “Maybe he was afraid of being hurt again. I know he must regret it now, but I think Grady wanted to give things a little more time—didn’t want to rush things.”
    “Aunt Leona, that was . . . what . . . eleven years ago, and Beverly was only eighteen when they stopped seeing each other!”
    “Shh! Keep your voice down,” my aunt warned. “Wouldn’t want him to hear us. Grady doesn’t like to talk about it.”
    My aunt had put eggs on to boil and the sulfur smell was now competing with Misty Glade. I stepped back as far as I could, trying not to be obvious.
    “Well, I