Free A Crusty Murder by J. M. Griffin Page B

arm. “How terrifying for you to have to witness that.” He turned to me. “And a muffin? Isn’t that like the bit of bread from Mrs. Peterson? Somebody has it in for you, Melina.”
    “Indeed,” I said. “What brings you to Wickendon Street today?”
    “The food and company, of course,” Aidan answered with a grin. “I wanted to know if you’d be having another class soon.”
    Surprised, I asked, “I thought you were returning to Scotland for a while?”
    “I’ve had to put it off for a bit, so I’ll be here for another week. Business, you know. Besides, I’d enjoy learning more bread making recipes, so I can impress my cook when I get back.” Aidan chuckled, his white teeth bright, and his smile armed and dangerous.
    “Right, the cook,” I mumbled. Who the heck could afford to have a live-in cook?
    “Does your cook live at your house?” I had to know. It was bugging the crap out of me.
    “Aye, she does. I have a small staff on the estate. I don’t live a fancy, sophisticated life, but I do keep the family home up to date. It’s a fulltime job, ya ken ?”
    Ya ken? Ah, that must mean y ou understand. Okay, I was getting better at figuring out the Scottish lingo. I grinned at my newfound ability and watched his eyes sparkle with mischief.
    “Are you teasing us, Aidan Sinclair?”
    “No, lass, I just realized you understood what I said. You’re making progress. I’m impressed.” He glanced around and asked, “Where’s Seanmhair today?”
    “Her card game is running late. It must be a tournament. She’s quite the card shark, so don’t ever play with her for cash. She’ll pick your pockets clean.”
    BettyJo and Aidan laughed, then BettyJo said, “I played her once, and when she took me for fifty dollars, I knew at that point she was a serious card player. So, beware, Aidan.” BettyJo checked her watch and said she’d see me later. I nodded. She left Aidan and me sitting in the now near-empty pizzeria.
    “She’s a kind lass, that one. A good friend, I think,” Aidan noted. “You’re lucky to have her.”
    “True enough. We went to college together and have been friends ever since. Her father is a banker investor type who has more money than he knows what to do with. They don’t have a great relationship, and that’s just sad.”
    “Aye, it is. I’d give anything to have my parents alive and well. They were good people, like Seanmhair is. Have you spoken to her about visiting Scotland?” Aidan wondered.
    “I mentioned it, but we haven’t made a decision yet. Thank you for the invitation, though. It’s very kind of you,” I said in earnest. Until I could clear up the murders of Mrs. Peterson and Sondra Martin, I’d be going nowhere, except, maybe to jail if Graham could make a case.
    Considering the conversation Seanmhair had overheard between Helena and Sondra, and the fact that I’d seen Aidan hanging about, I was in a quandary over his innocence. Heaven help me, I didn’t want this man to be a murderer. What was his motivation? Why would he kill them? He didn’t know them, did he?
    “Had you ever met Mrs. Peterson or Sondra?” I asked Aidan while I fiddled with my napkin.
    I glanced up when he said, “No, I didn’t. Why do you ask?” His keen eyes had taken a serious bent as had his tone.
    “No reason, I just wondered.” I crushed the napkin and tossed it onto the plate. “How are your liquor distribution arrangements going?”
    “We’re working out a few issues. The laws in this country and mine don’t make sales across the ocean easy. If I set up a plant here in the States, I’d have less trouble than having my products shipped over. It isn’t in my budget to start a business here in America, so I have to put up with the bureaucracy of it all. It pains me.” Aidan shook his head.
    His sonorous lament caused me to laugh. Surely, he could move mountains if he so chose. I said as much and listened to his hearty laughter.
    “I’m good, but not that good. This