Camilla T. Crespi - The Breakfast Club Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

think it’ll hurt me.”
    Jessica jiggled her head. “Can I show you the dress I wore? It’s smashing.”
    “Sure.” Lori smiled at her daughter’s shift from woman to teenager. “I’m sure you looked gorgeous in it. How was the wedding? Did you have fun? Were there kids your age to dance with?”
    Jessica had the good taste to turn red. “Mom!”
    “You don’t have to answer,” Lori said, “but I can ask.” It killed her to admit it, but she was curious. How fancy a wedding was it? Did they have a band? What food was served? Oysters, caviar, rare filet mignon covered in a cream-laced shiitake and shallot sauce—foods Rob loved—or half a chicken breast and no carbs, a dish she imagined skinny Valerie would favor. Who was the caterer? How much money did they spend? Did Rob make Valerie sign a prenuptial agreement? Well, she would never know, which maybe was for the best. Lori linked her arm with her daughter’s. “Come on, let’s go see this smashing dress.”
    Outside, someone honked. Jessica pulled back. “Later.” She maneuvered Lori into a chair by the table. “Stay here, in your favorite room.”
    It had been her favorite. The best, biggest room in the house, where, as a family, the Stauntons had spent countless hours eating and talking at the old round oak table in the center of the room, reading or watching television from the denim-covered sofa at one end. The tapping of Rob’s laptop, Jessica’s sighs and mutterings as she worked on her homework had kept Lori company on many a night while she cooked, ironed, sewed, did her old-fashioned wifely, motherly duties, enjoying almost every minute of it. Before Jessica reached puberty and preferred her cell phone and the privacy of her room. Before Rob got bored and preferred his dentist. She was going to be spending days in this room, testing out recipes. Lori looked forward to the hard work, the sense of achievement a successful dish was going to give her. Maybe then she wouldn’t miss what had been.
    Jessica pushed the tray of fudge in front of her mother. “Eat more,” she said. “You’re going to need the boost.”
    “Why?” Lori asked, puzzled, although the spark in Jessica’s eyes told her nothing terrible was about to happen.
    “Grammy is descending on us.”
    Not terrible. Not good, either. Not that Lori didn’t love her mother, but distance certainly made the heart grow fonder when it came to Ellie Corvino, the only grandparent Jessica had. “Now?”
    “She’s bringing dinner!” Jessica rolled her eyes as she crammed two fudge squares in her mouth. One of Jessica’s traits Lori was most grateful for was her appetite. She ate like a sumo wrestler and looked like a gazelle—a gene gift from her father. The Corvino women ate a carrot and another lump mushroomed on their hips. While Lori exercised four days a week and used portion control to stay a size twelve, her mother, a sixty-seven-year-old widow who owned and still ran the Bella Vista Travel Agency in Mamaroneck, New York, had become a vegan and let weight come and go as it pleased.
    Jessica picked up the tray. “I’m hiding the fudge in my room.”
    “Good move. It’ll spare us a lecture.” The front door opened.
    “Hi, Mom,” Lori said as her mother tried to balance a large pan while extracting the key from the front door. It seemed to have gotten stuck. Lori went over to help. “How’s everything?” She removed the key and gave her mother pecks on both cheeks.
    Ellie Corvino, red-dyed short hair in a bristle brush cut, wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt to which she’d added shoulder pads, purple Bermudas, and clunky sandals on her feet, placed the plastic-wrapped roasting pan on the floor and eyed her daughter. “You look terrible. You need some good face cream. Face cream and lots of makeup will make you feel like a million dollars. A billion, I guess. A million dates me. I’ll get you some cream tomorrow.” She held out her hand. “The key.”
    “I don’t