Read Alex Harris 00 - Poisoned for Free Online

me.
    “Me, too. And that’s what I’m worried about. John’s not going to be very happy if I start asking questions.”
    “So don’t ask, just listen.”
    “Huh?”
    “Okay, so ask when he’s not around. He can’t be everywhere at once. Just make sure to keep notes and tell me everything.”
    I stood up. “We’re being ghoulish. And insensitive. I’m going to be helping Mrs. Brissart and that’s all.”
    “Right.”
    “I’ve got some things to do.” I turned to go back to my office.
    “Who’s Jim Maroni?”
    “Someone new John’s training. Kind of cute, in a very serious way.”
    “Probably trying to make a good impression. Listen, Alex. Before I forget, Mom called earlier and wants us to come over Wednesday night. Mom and Dad have a Trivial Pursuit game on Friday and she wants to practice.”
    “They play Scrabble on Fridays,” I said, a bit bewildered at the sudden change to long-standing plans.
    “They did. But Mom kept on winning and no one wants to play with her anymore.”
    “Well, isn’t practicing for Trivial Pursuit cheating? They could get the same questions on Friday.”
    “We come from a long line of cheaters. You’ve forgotten our grandmother, have you?”
    I brightened just thinking of my beloved grandmother who at this very moment was probably bilking someone out of their life savings over a Pinochle game. “I read some of the Brissart family history Bradley brought over. They sound very illustrious. The boughs of our family tree are not laden with aristocracy, no, we have a bingo-cheating loan shark for a grandmother on our mother’s side and an exhibitionist grandfather on our dad’s.”
    Sam laughed. “Be kind. Grandpa hasn’t had any more problems since they got his infection cleared up and Meme gives away more than she wins. Besides, mom assures me she’ll use questions from the original game and on Friday they’re using a new edition.” We looked at each other with more than a little suspicion. “I know, it sounds like cheating to me, too, but Mom wants to be ready.”
    “She sure does like to win, doesn’t she?” I said.
    “Don’t we all.”
    I went back to my own office where I stayed until after seven.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    I awoke before the sun rose and took a shower, pulled on a strait skirt in dark brown and a matching safari jacket and eyed myself in the dresser mirror. My hair, recently cut and now spiked up with a large glob of hair mud, continued to defy me but with the help of some artfully placed highlights, I liked it better.
    Ten minutes later I guided my car through the streets of Indian Cove. The sky gradually grew light as the first rays of a low sun peeked over the horizon.
    All along my route, houses announced the impending holiday with large pumpkins and floating ghosts adorning front yards. Some people really got into the spirit, no pun intended, and strung lights from eaves and mounted witches on their roofs that in the evening would sway in the wind when pumps filled them with air. This being New England, anything to do with autumn got done up properly. I turned right into a well-tended community of small, one-story homes and parked in front of number two-four-two.
    “Come in, come in,” Meme said to me. “Samantha called and told me what happened at the Brissart home. Just terrible. I got your tea all ready and I’m making you a tomato and mayonnaise sandwich. Got some of that hard bread you like.”
    I kissed my grandmother’s cheek and closed the door. “When don’t you have some of the hard bread I like,” I said teasingly, “and how did you know I was coming?”
    Meme patted my cheek. “You always come to your grandmother.” She turned and scurried into the tiny kitchen.
    Today she wore her black dress with the tiny white polka dots and a black veil hat perched on her head. Like with always having bread, Meme always had a veil hat. For as long as I could remember my grandmother wore the hat, only taking it off when she went to