Free Caught Read-Handed by Terrie Farley Moran

bread” on the specials board and threw a price next to it. I didn’t even think about costing it out. If I had underestimated, our customers would get a special treat at a special price. The thought of that small gift to the people who enabled us to pay our bills was enough to cheer me. Within minutes the tables filled up and I had no time to think of anything but keeping the customers happy.
    Eventually the breakfast crowd slowed to a trickle. I was refilling the sweet tea pitcher and Bridgy was right next to me, packing up a box of muffins. She offered to hold down the fort if I wanted to leave for the airport. It was a little early but it would be best to make sure that I was waiting next to the showy 1908 Cadillac displayed in the main terminal when George and his family got off the plane. The Caddy was one of the many perks of having Thomas Edison and Henry Ford spend their winter months hereabouts a hundred or so years ago.
    I was totally at ease until the arrivals board indicated that George’s plane landed. Then the butterflies in my stomach started to flutter at warp speed. I began pacing back and forth, unable to put my thoughts in any semblance of order. How do you tell a friend that his brother has been arrested for murder? I couldn’t seem to figure out a kind way to say it.
    I was still rehearsing and rejecting potential speeches when I saw George walking directly toward me. I waved and a woman dressed in a periwinkle blue tank dress pushed passed George. Her hugely teased black hair was the exact color of her thick eyeliner and heavily drawn brows. She had a long, neon orange scarf wrapped carelessly aroundher neck, and it fluttered this way and that as it trailed behind her.
    As if it were opening night on Broadway and she’d managed to see the show destined to be the season’s smash hit, she started clapping her hands. Moving closer to me, she began shouting “Honey, I love you.” I stepped to one side, not wanting to get in between the
Queen Mary
and her dock.
    â€œHoney, I love you.” She repeated and stopped in front of me. “Don’t be shy. Give me a hug. You know how hard it is to get this guy to take a vacation. You worked with him; you know. Thank you. Thank you for getting me a trip to the beach.”
    I yelped when she threw her arms around me, gave me a gigunda bear hug and planted any number of kisses on both of my cheeks. I could imagine them covered with smears of her orangey lipstick that didn’t quite match the scarf.
    How could I have forgotten George’s flamboyant wife, O’Mally? The great, never-resolved mystery that stymied everyone who knew them was how placid George and high-flying O’Mally had ever gone on a first date, much less got married and lived happily ever after for the past twentysomething years.
    I wriggled out of her grip.
    George gave me a shy smile. With a hand on the small of her back, he gently guided the woman who walked a few steps behind him toward me. “This is my sister, Regina.”
    I immediately thought of her as colorless. Not the kindest description perhaps. And maybe it was seeing her in contrast to her bright and shiny sister-in-law. Regina’s dark hair had wide streaks of gray, matching her gray pantsuit. Her tightly laced walking shoes were black and matched her large over-the-shoulder purse.
    Regina extended a shy hand. “Thanks for letting us know where to find Alan. We’ve been so worried.”
    Before I could respond, George was giving me a restrained hug and thanking me profusely.
    I tripped over my words at first but got quick control. “The thing is, we have to talk.”
    I ushered the Merskys to a quiet corner of the terminal and told them as unemotionally as I could that Alan had been arrested. Regina stifled a sob.
    O’Mally immediately became comforter-in-chief. She put her arm around George and softly murmured, “It will be fine, you’ll see.