Free The Cereal Murders by Diane Mott Davidson

space I had ever inhabited. When I complimented her on how immaculate everything was, she gave me a startled look.
     
     
"Isn't your kitchen clean?" Without waiting for an answer, she peeked underneath the plastic wrap of one of my trays. I thought it was to check how clean it was until her chubby fingers emerged with a crust of potato-caraway bread. She popped the bread into her mouth, chewed, and said, "Hank and I, being in food service, feel it's imperative to have a dust- and dirt-free environment. You know we asked you to cater this meal because, well, we're busy with the guests, and you do have a good reputation - "
     
     
Then she scuttled out, but not without filching another slice of bread. Julian, Arch, and I began to prepare the meal in earnest. But if I thought we would be uninterrupted, I was wrong. Rhoda Marensky, as thin and leggy as an unwatered rhododendron, sauntered out first. It was well known in town that statuesque Rhoda, now fifty, had been a model for Marensky Furs before Stan Marensky married her. For the Bronco get-together, she wore a chartreuse knit sweater and skirt trimmed with fur in dots and dashes, as if the minks had been begging for help in Morse code. She stood in an exaggerated slouch to appraise Julian.
     
     
"Well, my boy," she said with undisguised wickedness, "you must have finished your SAT review early, if you can take time out to cater. What confidence!"
     
     
Julian stopped spooning out sauerkraut, pressed his lips together, and gulped. Arch looked from Julian to me.
     
     
"Unlike some people," I replied evenly, "Julian doesn't need to review."
     
     
Rhoda snorted loudly and writhed in Julian's direction, a female Uriah Heep. She put her hand on the sauerkraut spoon handle s6 that he was forced to look at her. "Salutatorian! And our Brad tells me you've never even been in a gifted program. Where was it you're from, somewhere in Utah?"
     
     
"Tell me," I wondered aloud, "what kind of name is Marensky anyway? Where is it from, Eastern Europe?" Bitchy, I know, but sometimes you have to fight fire with a blowtorch. Besides, skinny people seldom appreciate caterers.
     
     
"The Marenskys were a branch of the Russian royal family," Rhoda retorted.
     
     
"Wow! Cool!" interjected my impressionable son.
     
     
I glanced at the butcher knife on the counter. "Which branch would that be, the hemophiliac one? Or is that technically a vein?"
     
     
That did it. Rhoda slithered out. A moment later her husband strode into the kitchen. Stan Marensky almost tripped over Arch, who scooted out of his path and grimaced. I tried not to groan. Stan's long, deeply lined face, oversize mouth, and lanky frame always reminded me of a racehorse. He was as slender as his wife, but much more nervous. Must have been all that Russian blood that wouldn't clot.
     
     
"What did you say to my wife about blood?" he demanded.
     
     
"Blood? Nothing. She must have been thinking of the football game."
     
     
And out went Stan. Arch giggled. Julian stared at me incredulously.
     
     
"Man, Goldy, chill! You've always told me you have to be so nice, especially to rich people, so you can get more bookings... and here you are just dumping on the Marenskys - "
     
     
Caroline Dawson interrupted his rebuke by waddling back into the room. The queen of the short people put her hands on her wide hips; her crimson body shook with rage. "What is taking so long? If I had known you three were going to be out here having a gab fest, I would have had Greer help you, or, or... I would have brought in help from the caf‚ - "
     
     
"Not to worry!" I interrupted her merrily and hoisted a tray with platters of steaming sausages. "We're holding our own. Let's go see how our team's doing," I ordered the boys.
     
     
Julian mutely lifted his tray with the sauerkraut and potato-caraway bread. Arch carefully took hold of the first serving dish of warmed applesauce. We served the food graciously and received a smattering