The Deadly Judas
Page 10
“Interesting,” Annie lowered her voice. “Gossip has it that those two don’t like each other because, the same rumor says, Ted and Francie are cavorting behind Aline’s back. And yet there is gifting.”
“Really?” Tori cocked an eyebrow. “Not bosom buddies with so much in common? The wholesome chubby baker and the tall model perfect younger woman who want the same man?”
The whole subject of romantic relationships with one person too many in them made her ulcer burn. Or maybe it was the acidity of the coffee, or too much sugar. The ulcer developed soon after Reverend Andrew’s killer had been arrested. Although glad that justice had been done, she’d spent the summer on tenterhooks waiting to hear if she’d be charged with interfering in a murder investigation. Then, two weeks ago, she’d received a notice from the court that her testimony wasn’t required because the priest’s killer had confessed.
Relieved that part was over, she didn’t know if the detective duo of Sasha and Theo had forgiven her. Sasha was family, he’d come around, but she wasn’t sure about Theo. No, too complicated to think about now. She’d enjoy her time at Annie’s country house, take the requisite photos of the splendid autumn colors, and try to heal this damned ulcer.
Tori patted her pockets. “Annie, I forgot my purse in the car. May I borrow your keys?”
“No worries. My treat.”
“Thanks, but I need my stomach meds after this little bit of excess.”
The man with the sagging jeans unglued himself from the pastry display and wandered out after Francie. Had he been working up his courage to speak to the attractive woman while pretending interest in pastries? Surely, he was bright enough to see that a woman like Francie would not reject him gently.
Outside, a suffocating heat shimmered up from the concrete and asphalt. Maybe this was what hellfire was like. Tori waved her hand in front of her face to simulate a breeze, but it didn’t help. The heat lay on her skin, a film of fire, more intense fresh from an air-conditioned space. Thoughts of Francie melted as she walked around the side of the building into the shade. Indian Summer was supposed to be a pleasant, warm week; a last nod to summer before the dreary November moved in. This one came disguised as midst of summer.
The bakery threw welcome shade over the lane that led to the parking area. Tori gave her eyes a few minutes to adjust to the shady lane, found the right button on the remote, aimed it at the car door and was startled by an immediate flash of pale green.
She squinted at the reflection in the passenger window, but couldn’t see past the glare. In the car, Tori crouched low in the passenger seat and lifted her upper body enough so that the sill edge of the window was at eye level.
Aline’s handsome husband Ted leaned against the side of the bakery delivery van, and Francie Girard clung to him like a bizarre ornament as the couple kissed feverishly, oblivious to the world.
“Hmm... that’s one rumor laid to rest.”
AROUND THE OTHER SIDE of the building, the young man from the bakery also watched the lovers. His small hands balled into fists, his jaw rigid with rage, he snarled, “Home wrecking bitch.”
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Also by Mara Kalyn
Tori Carlin Mysteries
The Deadly Betrayed (Coming Soon)
The Deadly Judas
Standalone
Alexa's Inheritance
Watch for more at Mara Kalyn’s site.
About the Author
Mara Kalyn lives with her daughter in a suburb of Montreal, Quebec Canada. She loves cooking and gardening and above all, writing fiction. She grew up an avid reader of The Hardy Boys Mysteries, Nancy Drew, then later tackled Erle Stanley Gardner, Agatha Christie, and many more. One of her guilty pleasures was a good romantic story, fraught with drama, yearning and finally, a good, satisfying ending. No surprise that today she writes mysteries, and sweetens her genre pool with a good romantic story. Social justice and fairness are pet themes that you will see play out in her stories. As long as health and energy hold out, Mara will push forward and write quaity stories for her future readership. Be safe, be strong and carry on!
Read more at Mara Kalyn’s site.