Free A Crossworder's Delight by Nero Blanc

vanishing under this weight of white. “No,” she admitted. “I don’t like having Martha up at the inn instead of here. I missed our Breakfast Bunch gathering this morning, missed Sara and Al—and you—trading quips and laughter.… I guess I’m just a person of habit.”
    Rosco took her hand. “Speaking of habits … I wish you’d remember that if you say you’re going to beam in with me via cell phone, you’re supposed to do it.”
    â€œYou don’t need to worry about me, Rosco. I’m a good driver.”
    â€œI realize that, but you worry when I’m doing something you consider unsafe, don’t you?”
    Belle sidestepped the question by returning to the puzzle. The recipe was the real deal, an old-fashioned chocolate-pecan angel food cake created by a genuine cook. “69-Across: Argentine president Juan’s wife ,” she muttered. “5-Down: Mickey’s wife of a year … 53-Down: James Hubert Blake, familiarly . You really need to know your history to keep up with this gal.…” Even as Belle spoke, she wrote in EVA, AVA, and EUBIE.
    Rosco gazed at her and chuckled. “I’m looking forward to having you meet E.T. Whitman. He seems as much of a word freak as you are. And, boy, was he ever impressed when I told him I was your husband.”
    â€œHappy to oblige.” Belle grinned, then picked up her sandwich. “Who would name a kid E.T.? It’s like Ima Hogg.”
    â€œYeah … I bet he doesn’t have an easy time of it at school. I’m sorry to say that Morgan Marz seems kind of hard on him, too.”
    Belle continued to eat, swishing her French fries in a puddle of ketchup. “Morgan’s not always easy on Mitch, either.… So, what’s your take on the disappeared Longfellow?”
    â€œ Listen, my children, and you shall hear, Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere ,” Rosco quoted dramatically. “ On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five …”
    Belle chuckled, continuing the stanza in her own theatric tone. “ Hardly a man is still alive —” Then her words abruptly ceased and her eyes grew wide and worried. “Wouldn’t it be awful if this cookbook were connected to the woman who drowned in the chocolate vat? The one old Mr. Liebig remembered.”
    Rosco shook his head. “I’d say that was a long shot. You told me the woman was working on the catwalk above—”
    â€œCleaning machinery,” Belle interjected.
    â€œExactly, cleaning,” Rosco continued. “I don’t want to seem snooty, but someone hired for that type of job … well, let’s just say that the members of my family who first arrived in this country grabbed any kind of work they could. It was always menial.… No slur intended, but they weren’t crossword constructors.”
    â€œI hear what you’re saying, Rosco. I know creating puzzles requires a certain level of education, not to mention a command of the English language … but when that woman died, we were at war. I’ll bet a lot of literate people took work that might have been beneath them just to make ends meet when their loved ones were far away fighting. And besides, maybe she didn’t fall. Maybe she was pushed. A love triangle situation, or—”
    The arrival of Stanley Hatch curtailed the rest of Belle’s hypothetical scenario. “Mind if I join you two?”
    Rosco and Belle immediately slid over to make room. From the focused manner in which Belle studied Stan, Rosco sensed she was about to bring up the subject of Martha. He nudged his wife’s foot under the table. It was one thing for Sara to act as matchmaker; women her age were entitled to meddle. Belle, however, was nearly a half century younger.
    Belle’s reaction to this warning was to raise her eyebrows in an exaggeration of innocent denial.
    â€œI need some advice,” Stan