Murder on the Bride's Side Read Online Free PDF Page A

similar when I was out in L.A.,” Peter said wonderingly.
    Bridget turned to Colin with a triumphant smile. “See?
    He saw these in L.A. and everyone knows that L.A. is fashion central.”
    “He probably saw them on a hooker,” Colin deadpanned.
    “Colin!” Bridget yelped. “What an awful thing to say!” Colin looked as if he were about to apologize, when Bridget amended with a rueful glance at the pumps, “Okay, maybe they are a teensy bit over the top. But I had to do something outrageous. Tomorrow I’m going to look . . . well, I’m not going to look like
me
.”
    Her shoulders slumped underneath her neon apple green dress (a fashion statement in and of itself) and she stared dejectedly at her feet. It took all of my self-control not to burst out laughing. Colin smiled at her and grabbed her hand. “Honey, I don’t care if you wear a bathing suit tomorrow.”
    Bridget’s green eyes glinted and I thought she was about to take him up on the offer when Harry returned. Thrusting a bottle into Peter’s hand, he said hurriedly, “I’d drink this quickly if I were you. Elsie’s spotted you. I don’t know if Elizabeth warned you about her, but she considers it her duty to, well . . . to test those who date the ones she loves. And from the look in her eyes, you are about to be tested.”
    We all turned to see Elsie bearing down on us. Her silver hair was pulled back into an elaborate bun and her royal blue floor-length dress billowed out behind her as she skillfully maneuvered her way across the floor with the aid of a silver-tipped mahogany cane. There is nothing wrong with Elsie’s balance. The cane is just for dramatic effect, a bit like Bridget’s shoes. Nevertheless, she looked haughty and intimidating, like one of Jane Austen’s characters who make life hell for everyone else.
    “Elizabeth!” she said crisply. “I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to your young man.”
    I have known Elsie since I was nine years old and I still found myself stifling an urge to curtsy. I could only imagine what Peter must be thinking.
    “Of course,” I said quickly. “Elsie, may I present Peter McGowan. Peter, this is Bridget’s grandmother, Elsie Matthews.”
    “I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Peter said, extending his hand. Elsie took it and held it in her own heavily bejeweled hand.
    “Elsie,” said Bridget, a warning note in her voice.
    “Hush, Bridget,” Elsie replied, not taking her eyes off Peter. Firmly holding his hand, she said, “You remind me of a man.”
    I groaned. Elsie not only loved old movies, she considered them a mandatory element of any proper education, like history or algebra. Bridget shot me a sympathetic look and shrugged.
    “What man?” Peter replied pleasantly.
    Elsie’s blue eyes snapped. “Man with the power,” she continued conversationally. People started to gather around; they, too, were used to Elsie’s tests.
    Peter did not miss a beat. “What power?” he said. I breathed a sigh of relief.
    Elsie’s lips turned up appreciatively. “Power of hoodoo.”
    “Who do?”
    “You do.”
    “Do what?”
    “Remind me of a man,” finished Elsie, letting go of Peter’s hand with a snort of laughter. “I’m impressed, young man. Not many people know that one. For instance, I bet David here doesn’t,” she said, turning to her son-in-law. As usual, David had plastered his thick hair with products and was preparing to do the same to his liver from the looks of the very full glass of amber liquor in his right hand.
    At Elsie’s challenge, I tensed. So did most everyone else, for that matter. When he was younger, David had been nothing more than a good-looking blowhard. His dreams of one day being a football hero buoyed him through any hard times and kept him upbeat. But once he realized that those dreams were never going to happen, he changed. His drinking increased andhis moods became mercurial. In the early part of the day he was still the jocular