Page 9 of Macaron Massacre

“Oh—well, if that’s what he would have wanted.” I give a guilty sweep of the vicinity. The people in town are going to think I’m a loon. I take the glass and draw it close to me.

“To Richard!” Gloria shouts, and the girls echo his name with just as much fervor. “May he soar with the angels.” She belts out a husky laugh. “Oh, who are we kidding? May he adjust to the heat as he kicks off a riot in the underworld.”

“Hear, hear!” The girls lift their glasses before the three of them drink up.

“Lottie Lemon!” My mother speeds over, her eyes agog. “What in heaven’s name is going on here?”

“Not heaven, apparently,” I mutter to no one in particular.

Gloria waves my mother off as she lands her glass back on the bar. “Miranda, let’s see that ring again.” She pulls up my mother’s hand and inspects the engagement ring Rich gave my mother with so much—possessionin her eyes. “Should we let her keep it, girls?” She looks to her daughters as they grumble out an agreement.

“My goodness!” My mother plucks her fingers back from Rich’s heartless ex. “What has gotten into you? Toasting with champagne? Acting as if you have the right to rip jewelry right off my finger? Clearly, you’re in shock. Let me get you some coffee. Lottie, go grab some of those rocky road brownies. I’ll get them outside to get some fresh June air.”

“We’ll pass.” Claret pulls a set of keys out of her purse. “I’m sorry, Miranda, but I’m having the locks changed to my father’s house this evening. You’re no longer allowed back on the premises.”

“Ohh!” Gloria raises a hand. “I call the cobalt decanter. I’ve always loved that damned thing.”

Michelle groans. “I want Granny’s old sewing machine. Let me get Kyle to drive over with the Suburban.” She takes off with her phone glued to her ear.

“Kyle is her husband.” Claret shrugs. “There won’t be an estate sale for a week or so if any. We’ll need plenty of time to go through his things ourselves. I guess I know what I’ll be doing tonight. It was nice meeting you both!” She takes off with a spring in her step as both my mother and I stand with our jaws rooted to the floor.

Gloria offers my mother an impromptu hug. “It really was for the best, honey.”

Mom pulls back, looking far more horrified than ever. “If you say so. I’ll need all the details about the service and burial. I’ll have Lottie cater. The church has a wonderful reception room.”

“Oh, heavens no.” Gloria chortles. “He’s getting the coffee can. I’ll call you once we have his ashes. Maybe we’ll dump him in the river—or the toilet, whichever is closest.”

“What?” my mother riots as if Gloria confessed to killing him herself. “You’ll do no such thing. He deserves a proper burial. I’ll pay for it myself if I have to.”

“Mother.” I give her elbow a quick tug. Surely, she’s forgotten how expensive a funeral can be.

“I will!” she howls in Gloria’s face, and Gloria forces a smile that looks more like a grimace.

“Have it your way. I’ll make the arrangements and notify you of when and where. And don’t you worry.” She looks my way. “His estate has plenty to foot the bill. Nice meeting you both.” She takes a step toward the door before pausing to look back at my mother. “Miranda?” She bears those bugged-out eyes toward my mother’s as her affect softens a notch. “You’re welcome.” She takes off, and my mother growls as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

Lainey and Meg scuttle my way just as Everett wraps an arm around me.

“What was that about?” Meg looks as if she’s ready to kill—perhaps again.

I relay the bizarre string of events as quickly as I can before looking up at Everett. “I guess it’s not illegal not to mourn the dead, but some fake sympathy for the poor soul seemed in order.”

Meg grunts, “You won’t get any from me. That man had it coming.” About three different sheriff’s deputies give my sister the once-over.

No offense to Meg, but she doesn’t exactly look like the embodiment of sanity.

“She didn’t do it,” I’m quick to assure them as they slowly turn back toward the crowd. “And would you keep it down?” I hiss at my sister. “There’s a killer in here, and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind pinning it on you.”

“Or our mother.” Lainey shrugs. “God knows she wanted him out of her life.”

The same three deputies turn our way once again.

“Good Lord.” I corral my sisters closer. “Get Mom home. I’ll let you know if there are any breaks in the case.”

Meg hooks her arm through Lainey’s. “You know what this means, Lot? You can’t come to the bridal shower.” She gives a facetious grin. “Probably not the wedding either.”

“This is no time for horsing around,” I say as I try to shoo them off. “Besides, Lainey would never exclude me. Right?”

Lainey’s mouth opens and closes as Meg shuttles them off to the kitchen.