Lucy and the Valentine Verdict Read Online Free PDF Page B

turned
out, for Mandrake and I to snap back into our subservient roles.
“Mandrake! Ann! Clear the plates, please, and serve dessert.”
    I glanced at Mandrake, hoping he’d show a
rebellious streak and refuse to move, but he didn’t even hesitate.
He jumped to his feet and immediately began removing plates.
    I moved a little slower.
    Mrs. Peabody watched me over the top of her
wineglass. “Bossy, isn’t she? If this was a real murder mystery, my
money’d be on her as the victim. She has
went-to-the-dinner-party-even-though-I-was-sick written all over
her.”
    I smiled. “
The Mirror
Cracked
.” One of my favorites.
    “And who would kill her?” I asked. Morbid,
perhaps, but I was in no hurry to step back into my role.
    Mrs. Peabody tapped a finger against her
lip, and then she laughed. “You, of course. She was an unwed teen
mother who left you on a roadside, then once she married into all
of this, ignored your pleas for help. How could you not want to
kill her?”
    I shook my head, impressed. “I think you’ve
read a little Agatha Christie yourself.”
    “How do you think I landed that?” She
gestured toward Mr. Blore and took another sip, but this time I
noticed a glow in her eyes. Despite her fussing, she loved him.
    Feeling even warmer toward her than I had, I
squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you’re not really dead.”
    Her eyes rounded. “Hell! Me too!”
    “Ann?” Lady York called from the head
table.
    I rolled my eyes at Mrs. Peabody and
followed Mandrake into the kitchen.

Chapter 5
    “A glass is missing,” he announced in a
less-than-excited voice.
    “Huh?” Still fussing over being forced to do
labor on my romantic valentine weekend, I was a bit slow
following.
    He pointed at the sink.
    “The martini glasses. You brought them in
here earlier, didn’t you? There should be ten, but there are only
nine.”
    I blinked. “Uh...”
    He widened his eyes, prompting me to do
something. When I didn’t respond, he pointed to the pocket in my
apron where I had tucked my cheat card.
    I pulled it out, but there was no
instruction past bringing the glasses into the kitchen.
    I twisted my lips. “Should we tell the
Cannons?” I asked, guessing that was what a good servant would
do.
    “Are you sure that’s what you want?” His
tone was ominous.
    I twisted my lips some more. If we reported
the glass was missing, I would obviously be blamed.
    “Mrs. Peabody... do you think... Dr.
Armstrong was right? She was poisoned?” I was getting into it
now.
    “It makes sense. Egg and Armstrong thought
to keep the mixer, but forgot about the glass.” He paused. “You
know they’ll blame us. The staff is always blamed.”
    I glanced at him. The butler did usually do
it, and he seemed awfully eager to pull me into some kind of a
partnership.
    “That is true.” I glanced back toward the
closed door that separated us from the dining room.
    “You clean everything up, and I’ll serve
dessert,” he suggested, turning away from the sink and towards a
cake stand where a chocolate cake stood waiting.
    There were many things wrong with this idea,
not the least of which was that it involved me doing the worst of
the work and most likely missing out on dessert.
    Then there was the fact that I’d most likely
be destroying evidence. I frowned. I really wasn’t trusting
Mandrake at all.
    The door to the dining room flew open and my
hero, Peter, strolled in. Well, he was usually my hero. As he held
up his monocle and made his way to the tray of martini glasses, I
wasn’t so sure about that right now.
    He stared down and cocked one brow. “A glass
is missing.”
    Both men looked at me.
    A fist tightened around my heart and sweat
beaded on my lip. I grabbed a napkin and wiped it off.
    Then I remembered this was play-acting. And
even if it wasn’t, I hadn’t done anything wrong.
    My upper lip curled, and I think I snarled.
Someone did.
    Peter’s other brow rose.
    Mandrake, turncoat that he was, raised his
hand and