'Tis the Season Murder

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'Tis the Season Murder Page 44

by Leslie Meier


  “He might be smart,” admitted Lucy, “but he’s certainly not socialized. Libby has better manners, and she’s a dog.”

  “He’s a little rough around the edges,” said Zoe, beaming, “but Libby only gets up to greet you because she knows you’ll give her a treat.”

  “That was unkind,” retorted Lucy, bending over the dog and scratching her behind her ears. “You love me, you really, really love me, don’t you?”

  The dog yawned and settled her chin on her front paws.

  “And that car,” said Lucy, reverting to the subject at hand. “The registration’s elapsed and so has the inspection, which is understandable since I doubt it would pass. It definitely needs a new muffler.”

  “Mike’s got better things to think about than bother with stuff like that. He’s working on a computer game that’s going to be revolutionary, that’s going to change everything.”

  “Well, if you ask me, he’d be better off taking a shower and changing into clean clothes.”

  “Oh, you don’t understand anything!” declared Zoe, storming up the stairs to her room, where she slammed the door.

  “What was that all about?” asked Bill, stepping into the kitchen and kissing his wife on the cheek, before depositing his empty lunch cooler on the counter. Lucy smiled, noticing that Libby didn’t get up for him, but did manage to thump her tail a few times.

  “Zoe’s got a new boyfriend,” explained Lucy. “A real loser.”

  “She’ll learn,” said Bill, opening the refrigerator door and extracting a can of beer. “She’s got to figure these things out for herself.”

  “Just you wait until you meet him,” said Lucy, tearing up lettuce for salad. “I bet you’ll change your tune then.”

  Bill sat down at the round, golden oak table and popped the tab on his beer. “Whaddya think about this island shindig?” he asked, with a nod at the invitation that was stuck to the refrigerator door with a retro magnet advertising Moxie soda pop. “I’m not gonna have to wear a jacket and tie, am I?”

  “No jackets, no ties,” said Lucy, repeating the verdict Sue had handed down when Lucy called for advice. “It’s resort casual.”

 

 

 


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