Free A Zest for Murder (Sky High Pies Cozy Mysteries Book 5) by Mary Maxwell Page A

days?”
    “Everyone’s great,” I said.
“Brody’s in San Diego. Olivia’s in Denver. And my parents are—”
    “Permanent snowbirds! When your mom
told me they were moving to Florida, I about had a stroke! How can they leave
the mountains for a bug-infested wasteland filled with old coots waiting to
die?”
    I forced a smile and shrugged. “I
don’t think they quite see it that way. They’re having the time of their lives.
They’ve made a bunch of great new friends, toured some of the state’s
historical sites and—”
    “Cup of tea?”
    I’d forgotten how much Mrs.
Flanagan loved to interrupt someone when they were talking. It had been the
only thing my mother ever griped about when she and my father came home after
having dinner with Hannah and her husband Dell.
    “That would be lovely,” I said.
    “Follow me into the kitchen then,
dear. Pork Chop’s out with Daisy.”
    I didn’t want to ask, but I guessed
Pork Chop was her nickname for Mr. Flanagan and Daisy was the family dog.
    “They just left about ten minutes
ago, so we should have a good half hour to visit before all hell breaks loose.”
    We went down the hallway, around a
corner and into a sunny room decorated with a large gallery of framed family
photographs.
    “Daisy’s just three months old, so
we’re still working on our boundaries and potty training and just about
everything else.”
    While she prepared the tea, Mrs.
Flanagan chattered away about how nice it was to have an unexpected visitor and
how much I’d grown and how she would never understand the attraction of life in
Florida. I sat at the table and listened with a smile and the occasional nod.
    “Then it’s a good thing you live
here in Crescent Creek,” I said when she finally paused to take a breath.
    “You’ve got that right!” she
agreed, putting boiling water and bags of English Breakfast into two mugs
bedecked with dog-related slogans.
    “Here you go, Muffin!”
    I ended up with All my children
have paws , while Mrs. Flanagan settled in across from me with I am only
speaking to my dog today .
    “It’s just so nice to see you,” she
gushed. “I can’t wait to talk to your mother and tell her how pretty you are!”
    She sipped her tea, cringing
slightly at the temperature.
    “Have you guys spoken lately?” I
asked.
    Mrs. Flanagan frowned. “I’m afraid
not. Between Pork Chop’s sprained shoulder and Daisy’s poop everywhere, I’ve
barely had time to breathe.”
    “Well, I’m sure mom will love
catching up whenever there’s time. I actually spoke to her earlier. She and dad
are—”
    “Fig Newton?” Mrs. Flanagan lifted
her chin and smiled. “Or I’ve got Oreos.”
    “I’m fine, but thanks. I ate a late
lunch at Sky High.”
    “Suit yourself,” she said. “How are
things at the café?”
    “Steady as she goes,” I said. “Some
days are busier than others.”
    “Well, Dell and I haven’t been in
lately,” she said. “On account of—”
    “His sprained shoulder and Daisy?”
    She giggled. “No, because of his
new diet. The doctor told him no dairy, no gluten, no fried food, no eggs. He’s
basically existing on air and Romaine lettuce.” She paused, leaned forward and
lowered her voice. “Along with the occasional highball or three.”
    We laughed together and I glanced
at the clock on the microwave. I didn’t want to spend all day sipping tea and
talking about Mr. Flanagan’s eating habits. Or Daisy’s poop. So, while she took
a sip of her tea, I asked Mrs. Flanagan how her sons were doing. The change in
her expression was instantaneous; her smile vanished, her gaze narrowed and her
grip tightened on the orange coffee mug.
    “Fine,” she said curtly.
    “It was Daniel and Dermot, right?”
    “You betcha,” she said.
    I gazed around the kitchen,
admiring the pictures of the couple and their children.
    “Didn’t you live on Hanover when
the boys were younger?” I asked.
    She answered with a small nod.
    “I thought so. My