“Nothing’s bothering me, exactly,” Joyce said. Then without taking a breath she added, “Oh, all right, if you’re going to badger it out of me, the truth is I’m seeing someone.”
Mel choked on her cookie. Little crumbs landed in her windpipe and she coughed and swallowed and sucked air, but still they were stuck. Her eyes began to water and Joyce reached around behind her and slapped her hard on the back. It didn’t help. Before it turned into full-on assault, Mel held up her hand to ward off her mother while lifting her coffee mug with the other and taking a healthy swig.
“Okay, I’m good now,” Mel said. “Um, Mom, do you remember the last time you decided to try dating?”
“Yes, dear, he was murdered on our first date,” Joyce said. “Kind of hard to forget, but I think I’m ready to try again.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
It was a firm yes with no wiggle room. Mel didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, it was nice for her mom to find someone. On the other hand, what if she hated him? Not that it was her place to have any opinions about who her mother dated. If Joyce was happy, then Mel was happy. Really, she was.
“Does Charlie know?”
“Yes, your brother called last night and we had a long talk about it.”
“So, he knew before me?”
“Please do not make this a thing.”
“It’s not a thing,” Mel protested. “It’s just that as your daughter, I thought I would get preferential treatment when it came time to divulge the details of your love life.”
“There are no details,” Joyce said. “I’ve told you all I’m telling you for now.”
“Seriously?” Mel asked. “No name? Address? Snapchat snap?”
“What’s that?”
“Never mind,” Mel said. “How am I supposed to have Uncle Stan run a background check with no name?”
“Your Uncle Stan does not need to run a background check,” Joyce said. She finished off her cookie quarters by stuffing both of them in her mouth. Very suspicious.
“Oh my god, Uncle Stan already knows, doesn’t he?” Mel asked. “You told him before me, too.”
“You have Angie’s wedding,” Joyce said. “And now you have all of this murdery drama with Cassie getting arrested. I didn’t want to add to your burdens.”
Mel stared at her mother. Something wasn’t right. Her mother was being very cagey, as if she was ashamed of her new beau or something.
“He’s not one of the people in the book, is he?” Mel asked. She could only imagine how Uncle Stan would handle that.
“No, heavens no,” Joyce said.
Mel felt her internal daughter alarm system ratchet down from Defcon one back to a solid three.
“So, when do I get to meet him?” she asked.
“When the time is right,” Joyce said. “It’s all pretty new.”
“You’re not going to do anything crazy like elope, are you?” Joyce looked at her with one eyebrow raised and Mel ducked her head and said, “Oh, yeah, I tried that. It didn’t take.”
“We’re just dating,” Joyce said. She tucked her silver-streaked blond hair behind her ear and Mel noted that her mom was still a very pretty woman.
“Well, whoever he is, he’s a lucky man, and if he doesn’t treat you right, just let me know, and I’ll sic the boys on him,” Mel said.
Joyce reached across the counter and squeezed Mel’s hand in hers. “Thanks, honey. Now, do you want me to ask around and see if there is any local gossip on who might have been angry enough to stab Elise over her book?”
“No,” Mel said. “I mean, if you hear a juicy tidbit at the hairdresser or Bunco, report back in, but don’t go fishing. Whoever killed Elise was willing to stab anyone associated with her signing and I don’t want you to make yourself a target.”
“All right,” Joyce agreed. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
Mel left her mother’s house with a plastic tub of meatloaf, potatoes au gratin, and a bag of salad. Dinner for her and dear Joe. Mel marveled that she could never visit her mother without leaving with a full dinner. It was as if her mother forgot she had been to culinary school and actually knew how to cook. Of course, Mel had specialized in sweet instead of savory, but still.
She zipped back to the bakery. She wanted to help Cassie, but she was beginning to freak out that the wedding was just days away and her mom was dating someone. Who was he? How had she met him? Should she ask Uncle Stan to run a background on the guy?
She arrived at the bakery to find Angie sitting at the worktable in the kitchen. She had her clipboard with her and was sitting there staring at it as if she expected it to bite her.
“What’s wrong?” Mel asked. “You look freaked out.”
“I am, because nothing is wrong,” Angie said. “As awful as it is, we found a new photographer who seems nice, and everything is right on schedule with no hiccups, boo-boos, or errors. That’s weird, right?”
“No, I’d say that’s a relief,” Mel said. “Besides, you’ve already had enough to deal with considering Blaise’s death. I know how hard that’s been on you and Tate.”
“Yeah,” Angie said. Her expression was strained. “Tate and I are going to his service tonight. I feel so awful. Here we are getting married and his poor mother . . . ugh.”
“I can’t even imagine how devastated she is,” Mel said. “Joe and I were planning to go, too. Did Tate say whether they have any suspects?”
“No. He called a while ago and said the police have no one in custody except for Cassie, but I just don’t see her murdering Elise, Blaise, the driver, or the caterer,” Angie said. “I don’t understand what the police are thinking. Do you think they know something we don’t?”
“Maybe,” Mel said. “Uncle Stan is playing it pretty close to the vest, but I’ll bet Steve is going to prove Cassie had an alibi for those other murders and then the case against her will
