Caught Read-Handed Read Free Page A

here.” She glanced at the bookshelves that lined two walls of the café. “I’ll probably want to browse a little after lunch.”
    The sisters decided on
Old Man and the Sea
Chowder with
Catcher in the Rye
Toast and sweet tea. I set the order request on the pass-through shelf, and while I was pouring the sweet tea, I decided to get a copy of this month’s book club calendar for Karen. I was reaching for the flier when the door flung open and Jocelyn Kendall, her strawlike hair even more askew that usual, stepped in. She looked around, confusion mounting in her eyes.
    â€œI didn’t think I was that late. Did I miss it completely?”
    I made the mistake of taking a step toward her. I was close enough that she grabbed my shoulders and shook me.
    â€œWhy didn’t you send out an email? Why didn’t you call me? I have so much to say.”
    When don’t you?
I kept that thought to myself and asked, “Jocelyn, what are you talking about?”
    â€œThe Tea and Mystery Afternoons.
The Circular Staircase
? Mary Roberts Rinehart? For goodness’ sake, Sassy, you’re in charge of the book clubs; I shouldn’t have to tell you what I’m talking about. You should know.”
    Then like an errant preschooler, she stamped her foot and fixed a bold, defiant stare at the book corner where the book clubs hold their meetings.
    How convenient that I was holding a book club calendar in my hand. I thrust it at her and picked up the two tall glasses of sweet tea and walked to Maggie’s table.
    Behind me I heard Jocelyn groan.
    â€œTomorrow. The meeting is tomorrow! I rearranged my entire day for nothing.”
    I knew if I looked at her, I’d be subjected to a harangue of epic proportions. The fact that the error was hers was of no consequence.
    As I set the tea on the table, Maggie whispered, “Don’t turn around. Uh-oh, she’s heading this way.”
    Feeling trapped, doomed even, I grasped for the handiest lifesaver.
    â€œJocelyn, have you met Maggie’s sister, Karen?”
    Jocelyn morphed instantly from offended book club member to helpful pastor’s wife and greeted Karen as if she was a brand-new parishioner being welcomed to the flock.
    â€œMaggie, you must bring your charming sister to late service on Sunday.” She patted Karen’s hand. “It’s not that late, of course, ten fifteen. But the eight o’clock service seems so early. Still, some of the parishioners like it. Attend worship and get on with your day. I do envy the up-and-at-’em types. I’m a bit of a slug in the morning.”
    She drew a breath, smiling ruefully, and I took the opportunity to switch the topic entirely.
    â€œI was at the library earlier and I noticed a poster for a palm frond weaving class.”
    â€œWhat do they weave? Grass skirts?” Maggie’s laugh had the vibrancy of jingle bells.
    â€œThe pictures on the poster were of flower shapes. We should think about going. Karen, how long are you staying on the island?”
    â€œOh, I’m here for a month or until Maggie tires of my company, whichever comes first.”
    Both sisters laughed and it was a double jingle for sure.
    Jocelyn sniffed. “I’ll have to check the date. Busy, busy you know, pastor’s wife. Lots to do.” She waggled a finger at Karen. “Remember late service—coffee after.”
    She curved toward me and her “I’ll see
you
tomorrow” sounded like a not-so-veiled threat.
    The three of us silently watched her flounce out the door and on to terrorizing her next victim, who was more often than not her long-suffering husband, Pastor John.
    As soon as the door closed behind Jocelyn, Karen opened her mouth but Maggie cut her off with a nod.
    â€œYep. She’s always like that, a special combination of brusqueness and self-absorption, as irritating as sand in your sneaker.”
    â€œWhat’s this about
The Circular