Murder Well-Done Read Online Free PDF Page A

Supreme Court justices, a couple a guys from the Senate, ambassadors, and what all coming to this shindig. Important people, you know?"

Meg rubbed her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. "Which is how come I can't give you an exact count.

If there's a war, or something, or like Bosnia heats up again? You gonna tell General Schwarzkopf he can't hightail it to the action on account of he's supposed to be at my reception?"

"General Schwarzkopf's coming?" said Quill. Senator Al shrugged. "He got an invitation. I expect him. Look, I don't want to say too much, okay? But there's something of national significance coming down pretty soon. And the eye of the nation is gonna be on Hemlock Falls."

Meg rolled her eyes at Quill.

The double swinging doors to the dining room banged open. One of the blue-suited men from the Santini entourage stuck his head inside the kitchen, a portable phone in one hand. Quill couldn't remember which of the men it was; they all looked and sounded alike. "Senator? We finally got Nora Cahill to agree to the interview. We have her in the conference room."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll be right there. You see? It's starting already. Now we got the media. So we bag the five-course dinner for seventy. We do heavy hors d'oeuvres. Stand-up. A buffet, like. The dining room can handle that if you take out the tables. So, Meg, dolly. No dinner."

"Dolly?" Meg said blankly. "Dolly?"

"We're looking at serving two hundred, right? If we can't seat 'em, let 'em stand. That pig, there?" He flicked his finger at the holly under its ear. "You roast a couple of those, we're all set."

"Heavy hors d'oeuvres for two hundred," Meg said stonily, "means a steamship round, pasta and shells, and baked BEANS!" She planted both hands on either side of the pig and drew breath. If one didn't know her very well, the expression on her face might pass for a smile. It put Quill herself, who knew her sister better than anybody, in mind of the wrong side of an outraged baboon. To Quill's amazement, Meg swallowed twice, and said merely, "Why don't we take the change in the menu up with Mrs. McIntosh?"

Santini, clearly unaware he'd escaped a verbal tsunami, continued, "So, no roast pig. I can live with it. If the food's a little less fancy than we planned - don't sweat it." His pat on Meg's shoulder was dismissive. "I gotta take this interview. So, look. You got more questions about the menu? Talk to the ball and chain."

"The what?" Meg demanded.

"Claire. My fianc‚e. Or her ma. Either one. Same-same." He waved at Quill, gave Meg the high sign, pointed a pistol-like forefinger at them, and went pow! "Catch you all later."

The double doors swung shut behind him.

"I don't believe it," said Meg. "Ball and chain? Dolly? Oh, God. I can't stand it!" She ran her hands through her short dark hair.

"Steamship round?" said Quill. "And pasta and shells?"

Meg grinned. "It's tempting, isn't it? That idiot."

"That's all you've got to say? That idiot?"

Meg shrugged. "Why should I waste my breath? It's kind of pathetic, thinking that all these people are showing up for this party. Mrs. McIntosh told me herself that one of the reasons they picked our Inn is because it's so hard to get to in the winter. He's got a guaranteed excuse for nobody accepting the invitations. I have no idea where all this last-minute agita is coming from."

"Maybe he's nervous about getting married," said Quill.

"Whatever. Anyway, Claire and her mother have had seventy acceptances. Almost all relatives. Five-course dinner with no expenses spared. That's what the Mclntoshes are paying for and that's what they'll get. General Schwarzkopf, my eye."

Quill twisted a strand of hair around one finger and tugged at it. "You don't think..."

"That two hundred politicians, ambassadors, and the President's cabinet are going to show up for this wedding? On Christmas Eve? In central New York?" Meg gestured toward the window. The kitchen faced the vegetable gardens at the back of the