Alex Harris 00 - Poisoned

mall and the largest bowling alley in the country, and the...”
    I put up my hand to stop the woman. I knew a bit about the area and the thought of the largest bowling alley in the country made my head spin. Not that I didn’t like bowling, I loved it in fact. But the thought of that lovely countryside and all those stone fences and gently rolling hills destroyed for a bowling alley. Well, I didn’t need to hear it on an empty stomach. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go into town to get something to eat.”
    “But there’s still plenty here. Let me fix you something,” Marsha began as she tried to stand on wobbly legs.
    “No! No, thank you. I need to get out. I have a few errands to run and I could use a bit of fresh air. Oh,” I turned back to Marsha. “One other thing. You said your aunt had lots of enemies. Who else besides your mother?
    Marsha sat there for a moment staring off into space. “Well, there was a woman on one of her committees. Aunt Roberta beat her out of the presidency or something, and I know the woman vowed to get even.”
    “When did this happen?” I asked, over the rumbling of my stomach.
    “Several years ago. Maybe ten.”
    I sighed. Several years ago. A woman as well respected as Mrs. Brissart probably had several other women green with envy. But enough to kill for? I doubted it especially after ten years. I grabbed my purse, anxious to get out of the house and away from all these screwballs who gobbled up food like there was no tomorrow—food that might possibly be laced with cyanide or mashed jequirity beans. I didn’t want to be anywhere around when the next body fell.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

    Ten minutes later I pulled into a gravel parking lot by a little stand at the beach. They made the best hamburgers around. I placed my order and then settled at one of the wooden picnic tables set up along the driveway. I punched a number into my cell phone.
    “Hey, it’s me.”
    “Where are you?” Sam asked on the other end. “You sound kind of far away.”
    “I’m on my cell phone.” I listened to total silence on the other end for a moment. “Hello? Are you there?”
    “I’m here. I just jotted down the exact time and date of this momentous occasion. Alex Harris uses cell phone.”
    “Ha ha,” I said dryly. I despised cell phones and their constant intrusion on every aspect of life. I didn’t need to hear snippets of conversations that in polite society I shouldn’t be hearing. I owned the cheapest phone around, an ungodly limited amount of minutes each month, and insisted I would only use it for emergencies.
    “Are you hurt? Sick?” Sam asked snidely on the other end. “Oh, my! You know who killed Bradley.”
    I held the phone away from my ear and winced at Sam’s high-pitched words. “No. It’s not an emergency, but if you don’t want me to enlighten you to the goings-on of Indian Cove’s high society, I guess I best hang up.”
    “No! Wait.”
    “That’s better.” I proceeded to tell Samantha everything I knew I shouldn’t but I needed to sort things out.
    “So where does someone get this bean stuff?” Sam asked.
    “I don’t know, but I’ll tell you one thing, whoever did it probably mashed the stuff up in a blender. If we can find that blender, then we’ll have ourselves a killer. Hold on. I’ve got to go get my food.” I put the phone down on the picnic table and went to get my hamburger.
    “Okay, I’m back,” I said a moment later while licking a bit of ketchup from my fingers.
    “John can’t really think Mrs. Brissart killed her grandson, can he?”
    I rolled my eyes. “He’s usually so sensible. And he’s a great cop. I just don’t know what he could be thinking.” I took a bite of my hamburger savoring the flavors of smoked bacon, tomatoes, onions, jack cheese, and avocados. “Mmmm. I needed that,” I said into the phone. “I’ll just have to set him straight.”
    “You think he could be right?” Sam asked, her voice hesitant over the connection.
    I set the burger on the waxed paper. “No.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. No. I don’t know. How could someone kill their own grandson?”
    “Well, according to what you’ve just told me, it seems fairly certain a family member killed Bradley, so why not a grandmother?”
    I groaned. “You should have seen her. Beside herself with grief. And his parents…” I told Sam about the rest of the people I had met and then hung up. Trying to hold a small cell phone and a