Seven Deadly Samovars Read Free

worshipers and his helper, Rimsky, to get him calmed down.”
    “Sounds like you’re all wound-up, too. How did you get so busy that you forgot Mom’s banquet?”
    “Well, the church sisterhood collected donations to buy Father Innocent a Russian samovar for his retirement. I have seven on order from Vladivostok, but wouldn’t you know it? They’re already two weeks late and those nice old women are getting very impatient. We can’t reach our Russian antique dealers, Minsky and Pinsky, and the freight forwarder isn’t helping.”
    “So how much time is left until he retires?” Godiva asked.
    “It was supposed to be next week, but that’s all changed now. That young priest was Father Innocent’s replacement, so I guess the only good thing about the murder is that they won’t need the retirement gift yet. That gives me a little more time for the samovars to get here.”
    “Yeah, Sis. Some spot of sunshine. The new priest gets knocked off and you’re relieved because that buys you time with the samovar shipment.”
    “Gee, when you say it like that, it sounds terrible, more like something you would think of.”
    Godiva changed the subject. “Listen Goldie, give me all the info and I’ll have Angel track your samovars. You know how great she is with that sort of thing. And can you call the Baranof and make a reservation for Caesar and me? A suite if they have one.”
    “I would, but every hotel in town is booked solid for weeks. Not only is it tourist season, but there’s a big Alaska Native convention coming up. Don’t worry, though, we’ll figure something out. You may not get a hotel room, but you won’t be sleeping in the park.”
    Godiva frowned. “The park would probably be better than that closet you call a guest room. Only one bathroom for the whole house; when are you going to remodel?”
    “Come on, Sis. You’ve become so spoiled. You would think we live in some little cabin at Tee Harbor with an outhouse. I’ll try to make some other arrangement for you, but you know my ‘closet’ isn’t all that bad. Will Caesar stay in Juneau until we go to Seattle?”
    Godiva grumped back. “How am I supposed to know? He doesn’t even know he’s going yet.”
     

THREE
     
           “Angel,” Godiva grumbled as she paced around the room, “Goldie’s getting craftier in her old age and I don’t think I like it. How did she manage to trick me into going to that god-forsaken place? Wait till I spring this on Caesar.”
    “Oh, come on, boss, Goldie didn’t trick you. She just played on your sympathy a little. It would never enter her mind to manipulate people the way you do.”
    “Angel, I do not manipulate people. I use tactical reasoning and the power of persuasion.”
    “Well, I don’t think you’ll need to use much of that on Caesar. Alaska’s an exciting place. I bet he’d love to go.”
    Godiva glared at Angel. “That’s only because he’s never been to Goldie’s house. It’s claustrophobic, boring, and there’s no escape from Juneau, no road out of there.”
    “But it’s so romantic! He’ll get to spend time with you away from the pressures of Hollywood, and you’ll get a rest from writing your column. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”
    “Right. We’ll both work our butts off to get ahead of our schedules so we can take the trip, and then we’ll be stuck in that little attic room of hers, pounced on by her outlandish mother-in-law and all of her goofy friends. Yeah, it’ll be a blast.”
    “Oh, cheer up. Goldie’s going to Seattle, and you know how happy that will make Flossie and Sterling. Your sister does so much for everyone, don’t make such a big deal about doing something for her.”
    Godiva shrugged her shoulders. “By the way, sounds like there was quite a bit of excitement up there.”
    Angel pushed up her glasses. “Well from what you told me when someone robs a candy store it’s front page news. So what happened?”
    “Murder. That’s what. Someone