Flossed (Alex Harris Mystery Series) Read Online Free PDF

Martine Cassé.
    “You do not play dis game?” The young Belgian nodded toward the group.
    “No, I’m afraid it’s not my cup of tea.” I had noticed Martine earlier sitting alone eating her meal, her husband preferring to eat elsewhere. Obviously, they hadn’t sorted out whatever was bothering them. As a matter of fact, Martine didn’t seem to be very popular with anyone. Both Donna Parmelee and Jane Tillingsworth had exchanged words with her earlier that most definitely were not warm greetings. I would have to ask Wanda about it. Not that it was any of my business, but I happen to be nosy, so I figured this justified my sticking my nose in other people’s business.
    Martine and I sat in silence watching the game for a few minutes before I spoke again. “Martine, forgive me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but I can’t help notice something is terribly wrong. Would you like to talk? Sometimes it helps.”
    Martine stared out into the yard for so long I was afraid I had offended the young woman. I had to remember Europeans were not so open, especially with someone they’d just met.
    “You are very kind, but no.” She sat there a few minutes more before sighing and looking back at me. “I’m sorry to say dat Americans are not dah only ones to suffer marital discord no matter what your divorce rates might indicate.”
    “Divorce. Martine, I’m so sorry.”
    “Do not be. It is not a certainty. But we have many dings to work at. It’s difficult, no, being married?”
    “Well, I wouldn’t know. You see, actually, I’m on my honeymoon. John and I just married last weekend,” I said trying to conceal my obvious happiness at a time when someone else was so distraught.
    “I am very pleased for you. I’ve been watching dah two of you and your happiness is very evident. I wish you a long and happy marriage.” Martine gave me a small smile before looking back to where her husband and Tom Mulberry were conferring on the next shot. “Sometimes I wish I never met him. I’m sorry, Aleex, you’ll have to excuse me.”
    Martine jumped up and ran into the house. I wasn’t sure if I should follow but decided to let her be. Instead I went in search of Wanda and a few answers.
    The kitchen of the huge house faced the backyard and through the large window I saw Wanda standing by the sink. As I approached, I saw Donna Parmelee standing next to her. Donna’s voice was raised and I could hear perfectly if I leaned against the outer wall to the side of the window, which of course, I did. From this vantage point, neither woman in the kitchen could see me.
    “I can’t believe you invited Martine, Wanda. Whatever were you thinking?”
    “I’m sorry, Donna, but she does work for Bill and he would’ve thought it a bit odd if I had asked him not to invite her, don’t you think?” Wanda said with a consoling tone to her voice.
    “Then you haven’t told him?” Donna asked then, her tone returning to normal.
    “Of course not! I promised you.”
    “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just hope she leaves soon. If I have to look at her too much longer, I think I’ll kill myself. Or maybe her.”
    I heard the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen and turned to walk away but ran smack into Jane Tillingsworth.
    “Alex, not playing? Don’t blame you there. It seems a rather pointless game.”
    “Yeah, kind of like cricket and billiards,” Sam said as she came up behind us.
    Jane pushed a strand of hair from her face, though from the looks of one of the oddest haircuts I had ever seen, it probably belonged right where it was. Jane wore a black and white checked blouse with a pair of red and white striped pants. Though she wasn’t fat, her face was very round and could be quite pretty if she chose to get rid of the scowl.
    “What my sister means,” I gave Sam a disapproving look, “is we don’t understand English sports.”
    “No, I would imagine you wouldn’t. Not barbarian enough for Americans, I should imagine.