Aspen Allegations - A Sutton Massachusetts Mystery

Chapter 14

I was just pulling on my black pea-coat to head out to lunch with Charles when the phone rang. Charles's voice sounded tight and rushed. "So sorry, something came up," he stated. "I can't make it tonight. How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"Sure," I agreed, my curiosity piqued. It seemed that Charles had an unusual number of emergencies in his life. What was going on?

I dialed Jason's number and in a moment he had picked up. I informed him, "Charles has bailed again."

"Good," he replied. "I would rather be there when you two meet, just in case. I'm not sure I trust any of these men."

I smiled at that. "I'm sure I'm perfectly safe in the middle of a restaurant," I pointed out. "Little chance of him slipping arsenic into my veal marsala while I'm looking out the window."

I could hear the hesitation in his voice. "Still, I would feel better if I was there. Is he going to try for tomorrow?"

"Yes, in the afternoon. Are you free?"

"Absolutely. I will see you then," he agreed.

There was a noise in the background, and his voice was apologetic. "I'm sorry, the meeting is starting up again. I need to go."

"Of course, you have fun," I assured him. "This will give me time to get some more raking done before tonight's virtual book club."

"Enjoy your evening," he offered, and then there was a click.

I breathed in the relaxation of having a surprise block of free time. The outdoor world called to me with its velvety soft voice, and in short order I was once again clearing away the carpet of leaves from the soft grass below. My compost bins were growing ever higher. But I knew by spring they would be rich with fresh earth, ready to begin anew in my gardens.

Finally the light began to fade, the birds settled down into their nooks for the evening, and I came inside. As the microwave hummed to make my tea water, I drew in a deep, cleansing breath.

Maybe it was a chance to treat myself. With the first snow come and gone, the first fire was long past due. I headed down into the basement, grabbed a log from the stack, and brought it upstairs. I checked the flue, then cleared a few items which had somehow gotten stacked in front of the fireplace area. Once the log was lit, I pulled the iron-chain curtain in front of the fireplace, then moved into the kitchen. I shook half a bag of salad mix into a large bowl, added some raspberry-walnut dressing, and a few olives. I poured a large glass of water and brought my meal back into the living room.

There. Just right.

A chirp sounded, and I smiled. I reached over to the laptop and hit the answer button.

Kathy smiled at me from the screen. "Fancy seeing you again so soon," she chuckled. She waved her copy of An American Tragedy in the air. "And you can see I'm all ready!"

Another chirp, and Anne had joined us. She was a brilliant woman in her eighties who had a PhD in biology. I waved at her. "Hello there, Anne!"

The third chirp came, and I chuckled. We were certainly a timely group! Simone was soon there with us. She was about ten years older than me, blonde and curvaceous.

I took a bite of my salad and looked across the group. "All right, then, who wants to begin?"

Anne perched her glasses on her nose. She had taught college nutrition for many years, and she thrived on structure. "I will start with the summary. An American Tragedy, a 1925 novel by Theodore Dreiser. The story followed a man who clawed his way up from nothing, accidentally impregnated a poor woman, then decided to kill her in order to be free to pursue a rich heiress."