Gone With the Win: A Bed-And-Breakfast Mystery Read Free

Golf balls? Where’s the meat? Is that a carrot or did you whack off one of your fingers?”
    “It’s beef stew and dumplings,” Judith said wearily. “One of your favorites. I suppose Arlene makes it better than I do.”
    Gertrude stabbed at a dumpling. “Hunh. Not as tough as it looks. But then neither are you.”
    “You, however, are,” Judith declared, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “Are you sure you don’t have any aches and pains from your crash?”
    Her mother shrugged. “No more than I usually have, which is plenty. But unlike you, I still have my own hips.”
    “You’re lucky,” Judith said, smiling. “Renie and I didn’t get such sturdy original parts like you and Aunt Deb. She has to be careful with her virtual shoulder replacement, just like I do with my hip.”
    “You and Serena got shortchanged in the smarts department, too,” Gertrude said before taking a big bite of beef. “Mmm. Not bad.”
    Judith stood up and leaned down to kiss her mother’s wrinkled cheek. “I’m smart enough to make good stew.”
    Gertrude patted her daughter’s hand. “You are at that. Dumplings are fluffy, too. Gravy’s not bad. And those are carrots after all. Hey—I found a spud!”
    “Go for it,” Judith said. “Oh—I forgot the banana cream pie. And no, I didn’t make it. I bought it at Falstaff’s. On special.”
    Gertrude shot her daughter a flinty look. “Even so, I’ll bet you paid more than two ninety-nine for it.”
    Judith was at the door. “A bit. It is the twenty-first century.”
    The old lady looked surprised. “It is? When did that happen?”
    “When you weren’t looking,” Judith said. She blew her mother a kiss and went back to the house.
    N o Mary Smith yet?” Judith asked Joe, who was making their drinks on the kitchen counter.
    “Mary Smith?” Joe frowned. “Oh—the missing guest? Not unless she sneaked in while I was still upstairs. Everybody else is yukking it up in the living room. What’s with the snowshoes in the entry hall?”
    Judith sighed. “Probably the Texans who thought this was Alaska. They must have brought them in from the front porch. I missed those.”
    Joe chuckled. “Why don’t you send your guests a map before they come here? While you were out of town, a couple of honeymooners from Wichita wondered why Japan looked so close. They thought we were on the ocean, not the Sound.”
    “A lot of people confuse the Sound and the ocean,” Judith said, accepting her Scotch from Joe. “Why don’t we take our drinks into the front parlor. That way I’ll be closer to the door when Ms. Smith arrives.”
    The Flynns went through the dining room, into the entry hall, and passed the living room, where they could hear the guests visiting amicably. Before going into the parlor, Judith glanced through the front door’s peephole, but there was no sign of a car or taxi in front of Hillside Manor. Joe asked if she wanted him to build a fire, but she said no. They wouldn’t have time to enjoy it before dinner. Later, they’d adjourn to the vacated living room.
    The domestic exchange between husband and wife centered on Mike’s new posting. “They’ll be able to come for Thanksgiving,” Judith said with a big smile. “And Christmas, too.”
    Joe frowned. “I thought Kristin and Renie were having some kind of disagreement. As in wanting to knock out each other’s lights.”
    “Oh, they’ll get over it,” Judith said with her usual optimism. “Renie doesn’t think Kristin shows me enough respect. You know our daughter-in-law likes to deliver a lecture now and then.”
    “She shouldn’t deliver it to you,” Joe declared. “How did I miss it?”
    “It was a year ago,” Judith said, her smile fading. “It didn’t bother me, but somehow it annoyed Renie, who told her if she ever did it again, she’d . . . react more strongly.”
    “Not physically, I hope. Kristin’s built like an Amazon. Renie’s a squirt. She wouldn’t stand a