Free Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 02 - A String of Murders by Darlene Franklin

suit with the light breeze blowing his Nordic blond hair into casual disarray.
    “‘We live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities.’ Oscar Wilde said that over a hundred years ago, but it’s still true today. We are fortunate to live in a country where we don’t often have to worry about physical needs like food, shelter, and clothing. We are free to indulge in spiritual necessities such as beauty, art, and culture.” He made a few congratulatory remarks about the Center for the Arts—how it would put Grace Gulch on the national cultural map and bring more tourists to our town and improve the quality of life and all that—and ended with a plug for the upcoming production of Arsenic and Old Lace . He thanked Magda for her support of the theater and stepped away from the mike.
    After the mayor ended his presentation, Dina peppered him with questions like a veteran. Peppi had questions for Audie and Magda, as well, so I decided to talk with my fiancé later.
    “Want some coffee?” Frances Waller tapped me on my elbow. Out of uniform and with a touch of makeup, she looked lovely.
    “Sure.” My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I had skipped breakfast.
    We walked in the direction of Gaynor Goodies. Cord lingered by the door to the bakery, face twisted in a frown. I followed the direction of his gaze—Gene Mallory. Magda’s son slipped into the crowd, hurrying away to some unknown destination, his dog, Bobo, trotting along behind.
    Then, Cord caught sight of us, and he smiled. Frances’s step beside me quickened, a light color in her cheeks
    “Good morning. I was hoping you’d join me.” Cord’s voice rumbled with something more than friendship as we walked through the door.
    We paid for our purchases and found a table by the front window.
    “I hope you don’t mind.” Cord arched an eyebrow at me. “I want to keep an eye out for Gene. Since we arrived together, I guess I have to wait for him to come back before I can leave.” He dunked a cake doughnut in black coffee. “Want some?” He offered a taste to Frances. She took a bite and giggled, sounding for the moment like she was back in high school.
    I felt like a fifth wheel and wondered where Audie was. The doorbell jingled, and he walked in and waved at us. He bought a cup of Chai tea and a bagel and joined us at the table.
    I wanted to ask Audie if Magda’s announcement was his big secret, but I wouldn’t, not in front of Cord and Frances. Instead, I pursued the topic of Gene Mallory with Cord.
    “How is your cousin working out?”
    I could guess the answer from the change in his demeanor. Not well. Look at the way Gene had left Cord without a word after the press conference. Everyone knew that Magda had pressured her nephew Cord into taking on his cousin Gene as a ranch hand.
    “I wish I’d never agreed to let Gene work at the ranch.” The black expression on Cord’s face rivaled his coffee. “His work is slipshod. Old Bob Grace might have been a cowhand, but I seem to be the only Grace left alive who likes ranch work.”
    “Maybe it’s Mrs. Mallory’s version of tough love.” Frances had edged her chair a few inches closer to Cord while they shared the dunking doughnut. “Spend a few months on the ranch and learn what it means to work for your living.”
    “Something like that.” Cord frowned. “Of course, Gene hung around the ranch when I was growing up. He helped out for a couple of summers, but he didn’t like it any more than Uncle Ron or Aunt Magda did. He never wanted to come back after he went to college. But that degree hasn’t done him much good. He seems content to live off family money.” He laughed, more like a cough. “That little dog of his might make a decent sheepherder, but Gene doesn’t fit in.”
    Family money . The reason for Gene’s upset departure clicked. “So every time Magda takes on one of these projects—”
    “He sees his inheritance dwindling,” Cord agreed gloomily.
    “At