Free Mahjonged (An Alex Harris Mystery) by Elaine Macko

that means you ladies are up to no good.”
    Luckily he said this with a smile because I wasn’t sure how much I should tell my dad. We had serious business to conduct tonight and if he got wind of what we wanted to accomplish, he would put a major crimp in the evening’s plan.
    “Nothing much.” I turned my head because my father could always tell when I was lying.
    “Sure. Well, as long as your mother is here, I guess you can’t get into too much trouble.”
    “Let’s go into the kitchen,” I said, quickly changing the subject. It may have been my idea to have this little soiree this evening, but my mother had promptly volunteered to host it. And I had seen the gleam in her eyes. Like I had with Meme, I thought I might be turning my mother into a nosy sleuth. Finding dead bodies just did something to a person and my mother was right there last night, front and center. If my dad thought having my mom around would keep a damper on things and keep everyone under control, he was in for a shock.
    I led the way down the hall to the kitchen, keeping my back to my dad. “I’m starving and I have a bag of goodies from Kruger’s.”
    My parents had recently done a minor renovation of their kitchen. Upgraded stainless steel appliances and a beautiful concrete countertop modernized the room substantially. It looked wonderful but they had managed to retain the same comforting ambience it held before.
    After grabbing some plates and a couple of knives, my dad and I settled ourselves at the kitchen table still covered with the same table cloth and napkin holder in the center that had been there for years. Neither went with the new appliances, but I didn’t care. Despite the updates, my parents seemed stuck in the fifties and it gave me comfort.
    I piled several slices of liverwurst on a chunk of crusty bread and lathered the other side with so much mustard I could no longer see any bread.
    “Hmmmm. I needed this,” I said after swallowing a huge chunk.
    My dad placed another slice of tomato on his salami and cheese sandwich just as the door leading out to the garage opened and my mother walked in.
    I jumped up and went to help her. “Here, Mom, let me take those for you.” I placed two grocery bags on the counter and turned the heat on under the kettle while I was up.
    “Alex, I didn’t expect you so soon,” my mom said as she put her keys down and pulled off a pair of gloves.
    “I couldn’t stay in my house one minute longer. If you don’t mind, I’m going to stay here until John comes home.”
    “Fine with me, dear. I couldn’t stay there on my own either.”
    I spent the remainder of the afternoon cuddled up on the sofa reading the New Yorker , while my mom made snacks for the evening and my dad worked out in the yard, clearing branches and debris from the storm.
    About a half hour before everyone else was due to arrive, I went into my dad’s home office and found a couple pads of lined paper and a bunch of pens with the name of some hotel or organization written on them. I don’t think my mother ever bought a pen in her life preferring to pilfer them from places she visited.
    Forty-five minutes later everyone gathered in the kitchen filling plates with wedges of cheese, crackers, tiny eggrolls my mother fried up earlier, and veggies and dip. Meme brought a large platter of salami, olives and pickled eggplant. I was suddenly very hungry again and had to grab another plate.
    After we stocked up on food and Sam pushed Michael and my dad out the door, we all marched into the living room and settled down. Dad had brought in a few more chairs from the dining room before he left and we needed them. I looked around at our assembled cast of characters and hoped I hadn’t included a murder in my invitations.
    While we ate and talked I glanced around the room at the others and just like last night, I could find no reason any of these women would kill Penelope. With the exception of Judith. I hesitated asking her to