Decorated to Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

exasperation. “Sometimes brothers are so dumb. There’s no such thing as hula talk. Tell him, Grandma,” ordered the pint-size feminist.
    “Well,” I said, accepting a wreath of red and white flowers from Kelly, whose mood was in danger of becoming as dark as his hair, “Hawaii is a collection of Polynesian islands, which explains the great diversity found in Hawaiian culture. That being the case, hula talk could very well be a collection of colloquialisms used by those who, over an extended period of time, have developed their own particular version of their native tongue. Any questions?”
    “Nah,” a smirking Kelly replied.
    Just as I’d hoped, the gobbledygook explanation had defused a potentially explosive situation.
    Satisfied that he’d been exonerated, the boy was ready to move on. “See ya later, alligators.”
    “Yeah, after a while, crocodiles,” added Kerry with a conspiratorial wink to her twin, signaling a temporary truce in their ongoing, gender-driven battle of sibling rivalry.
    Once Kerry and Kelly were out of hearing range, Charlie gave me a thumbs-up. “Nicely done, sweetheart. You sounded just like Judge Judy. By the way, you look rather striking this evening. Is that a new outfit? It sure is green.”
    “You should have quit while you were ahead, chum. Come on, Captain Hook, let’s join the party before it’s time for me to return to Neverland.”
    “Huh?” said a puzzled Charlie, leaving me to conclude that sometimes husbands, like brothers, are so dumb.
    The crowd had spread across the redbrick patio and onto the lawn like warm syrup on a stack of hotcakes. Under a canopy of shade trees, an ice-filled copper washtub held an assortment of canned soda, fruit drinks, bottled water, and beer. Off to the far right, on an apron of flagstone, sat an oversized stainless-steel gas grill.
    Picnic tables with bright, floral-patterned cloths had been strategically placed in close proximity to the white, ivy-covered gazebo. The low stone wall encircling the property looked party perfect with its thick blanket of climbing roses, clematis, and honeysuckle vines.
    Although it was still early in the evening, the air was heavy with the delicious mixture of simmering barbecue sauce, molasses-soaked beans, blooming flowers, and the the lemony scent of burning citric candles.
    Once we’d exchanged pleasantries with half the neighborhood and had been formally introduced to Dr. Peter Parker, a pleasant but rather nondescript young man, Charlie made a beeline for his golf buddies and a cold beer. Without my husband’s arm to lean on, I hobbled over to the gazebo where Doc Parker’s wife, Lucy, was holding court.
    “Ever since his fiancée died, quite needlessly I might add, the poor boy has thrown himself into his work,” Lucy was saying as I sat down between JR and Mary on one of the several benches that line the inside walls of the little summerhouse. Thankfully, good manners prevailed and no one commented on my jumpsuit or limping gait.
    JR was wearing a beige silk shirt and white jeans. A taupe-colored ribbon held her blond ponytail in place. She look both comfortable and chic. Mary had on a denim A-line skirt paired with a white and navy cotton wraparound blouse. Like JR, Mary looked great, proving that you don’t have to be built like a swizzle stick to be fashionably dressed.
    “Needlessly?” boomed the Amazonian Patti Crump in spite of sitting within whispering distance of Lucy. “What does that mean? Did she kill herself?” Like Sergeant Friday of television fame, Seville’s first, and so far, only, female police officer was interested in the facts and just the facts, ma’am. If the older woman was intimidated by Patti’s directness, it didn’t stop her from continuing with the story.
    Dressed in a beige linen shift that was almost as wrinkled as her skin, Lucy Parker heaved a deep sigh. “In a way, I guess you could say that, with her being anorexic and all. The girl certainly needed