Alex Harris 00 - Armed

asked breaking away from her grandfather.
    “It sure was. Santa brought these to Aunt Alex and me.”
    Michael stood up. “Well, what are we waiting for? Go get your coats and let’s try these things out.”
    Henry and Kendall ran to get their coats while Mom helped.
    Michael put a hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Thanks. They look beautiful. I think they’re going to be the best gifts of the day—next to your trip, of course.”
    I went to sit at the kitchen table with Mom and Samantha and watched the kids play outside. Michael stood at the bottom of the hill to catch any little body headed for a tree while Dad pushed from the top.
    “That turkey sure smells good. How much longer before it’s done?”
    “Several more hours,” Mom answered Sam. “So if you’re hungry, get the celery out of the refrigerator.”
    Sam retrieved the plate, put it on the table and took a piece stuffed with cream cheese.
    “I talked with Dolly the other day,” Mom said, as she stood at the counter laying a piece of wrapping paper flat and smoothing out the wrinkles with her forearm.
    Sam and I exchanged looks.
    The paper folded, Mom put a hard crease in it with the side of her hand. I recognized this particular piece from last year when it covered a couple of paperbacks. This year it adorned a set of lotions for Sam. We didn’t spend a lot of money on wrapping paper in this family.
    “What were you two thinking? You could have been hurt. Trying to catch a murderer!” Mom’s arthritic hands shook and she eyed each of us in turn.
    Sam leaned closer to me and whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “I bet she could use Joanne’s eye right about now.”
    Mom turned back to the counter and started sorting through bows and ribbons rescuing ones that could be used another time. “You two are more and more like your grandmother. Two hoodlums. I shouldn’t have left you with her so much, but I had to work.” Mom threw bows into a plastic container. One of them looked pretty raggedy to me but Mom let it get by. I squirmed in my seat while Sam crunched another piece of celery. “Loaning money to people like Al Capone, for Christ sake.”
    My mother swore using the Lord’s name in vain. This wasn’t good.
    Sam pointed a piece of celery at Mom’s back. “I don’t think Meme’s quite in the same league as Al Capone, Mom. More like—”
    Mom slammed the lid on the container and turned toward us. “Be quiet, Samantha. You’re the oldest. You should look out for your little sister.”
    “Ah, Mom?” Sam raised her hand, “My little sister here is thirty-six years old and you had her at twenty-five so that would make you…” My sister never missed an opportunity to needle my mother.
    “Never mind what it would make me. My age is none of your business. You should be protecting Alex.”
    “We weren’t in any danger. We weren’t even trying to catch anyone,” Sam explained. “More like testing out a theory. Besides, Millie came up with the idea.”
    “Samantha! How dare you blame Millie,” I chided my sister.
    Sam pouted. “She got us all worked up with all that talk about drugs. I guess we should have been looking for diamonds.”
    I closed my eyes and hung my head. “Jesus.”
    Mom came to the table and took a seat. “I haven’t mentioned your little foray into felonious follies to your father.” After a moment’s hesitation intended to make me sweat, she added, “I don’t think I will.”
    Foray into felonious follies? My mother did love her words. I guess that’s why she always won at Scrabble.
    “Let the police do their work. I don’t want you girls mixed up with killers and diamond smugglers. I think you should stay away from Poupée until this whole thing is resolved. Dolly knew you wanted to help, but she had no idea to what extent.”
    “You don’t have to worry about it anymore, Mom. I think the police will be making an arrest very shortly…if they haven’t already.” I smiled while visions of Jerry Gagliano being handcuffed danced in my head.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

    As the snow started to fall again, we women retreated to the kitchen to clean up after a huge dinner that always rendered the men useless.
    “Why is it that we do all the cooking and cleaning?” Samantha asked.
    “Because we do it better and quicker. If we left it to the men, number one, they would still be in here tomorrow morning, and number two, we would never be able to find a thing in the refrigerator. I’m not even sure