Death on a Deadline

kitchen and lowered my voice anyway. “I wanted to find out if she knew who those women were whose names were on the bottles.”
    “Did she?” Carly slid open the drawer, retrieved a teaspoon, and bumped the drawer shut with her hip. She dipped it in the pan and held the spoon of tomatoey-looking liquid up to me. “Taste this.”
    “She had no idea. Neither did Lois.” I blew the spoonful gently, then drank it down. “Yum. Your spaghetti sauce is always perfect.”
    “Thanks. Bummer about the pills. Drain that spaghetti for me, if you don’t mind.”
    I stretched on tiptoes and retrieved the strainer from the top shelf of the cabinet. “Where’s Mama?”
    “She and the girls are changing out of their church clothes.”
    “But you couldn’t be bothered, right?”
    Her wry grin didn’t reach her eyes. “I had to get my mind off things.”
    “Daddy and Zac in the living room, I guess?”
    “Um-hum.” She sprinkled a little more garlic powder in the sauce.
    “How’s Zac holding up?”
    “He’s wishing he’d turned around somewhere else that morning rather than the Main Street Park driveway. Still, I don’t think he thought it was a big deal not mentioning it the first time he was questioned. So he’s pretty stunned. But he’s counting on God and Alex to get him out of this mess.”
    “Speaking of Alex, what happened with him after I left?” I’d given her every opportunity to volunteer the information, but since she hadn’t, I decided I’d ask.
    “Daddy came over and invited him to come over for lunch. Bless his heart, I could tell he didn’t know what to say after you ran off like that. Then Mama wandered over and invited him, too. Poor Alex stammered all over the place before he finally got out of lunch.”
    “Poor Alex? Whose side are you on anyway?”
    “Side? Who said anything about sides? I thought you were enjoying seeing him again.”
    “I was at first. But he’s taken his slow sweet time about asking me out, don’t you think?” An invitation extended to both Carly and me to go eat after Hank’s funeral did not count. Nor did his agreeing to go play golf with us last Saturday.
    “So you’re pouting?”
    Why’d she have to make it sound like that? “Let’s just say that his hesitation has made me realize that I shouldn’t jump into anything either.” I ran water over the noodles. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”
    “Maybe he doesn’t either.” She took the spaghetti from me and dumped it into a glass casserole dish. In seconds, she’d poured the sauce in, stirred it together, sprinkled the whole thing with Colby Jack cheese, and popped it into the preheated oven.
    “I’m not the one who left town twelve years ago.”
    “Yeah, but you said he tried to call and you wouldn’t talk to him.”
    “Oh, well,” I huffed. “If he gives up that easy, I don’t know how he ever made it through law school.”
    “And you say you never hold a grudge.” She tsk-tsked me as she brushed butter on top of the rolls she’d made earlier.
    The door from the living room swished open just as Carly said that, and Mama smiled a welcome at me. When we were growing up, we watched the Waltons, and Mama always reminded me of Olivia Walton. Her smile was as gracious as her voice was soft. “Hi, honey, glad you made it. Who’s holding grudges in my kitchen?” Yet, like Olivia, she always managed her house, especially the kitchen, with a firm hand.
    “Thanks,” I mumbled to Carly. “Nobody, Mama. Carly’s teasing.”
    “Oh, good.” Mama bustled over to put the teakettle on to boil. Neither Carly nor I dared to make tea with Mama around. She’s the master of sweet tea and our family would tolerate nothing of lesser quality. “Hand me those tea bags, please.”
    I retrieved the box from the counter and passed it over to her. “Speaking of grudges, though, Mama, do you know why Hank and Byron fought all these years? Are they the only reason Marge and Amelia don’t get along?”
    “Hmm, I don’t guess I know the specific thing that made them fight. If there was one. As far as Marge and Amelia, when their family first moved to Lake View, they were as thick as thieves. The sisters and Lois. Three beautiful girls—always together.” She measured a liberal portion of sugar into the bottom of her tea pitcher. “Then not too long after I met them, something tore the sisters apart. I never did know what.”
    “I didn’t know Lois was from here.” Carly checked the