Thai Coconut Murder: Book 6 in The Darling Deli Series Read Online Free PDF

going on with the toy store.”
    “I wanted to stop by and give my condolences too,” Moira said. They sure had bugged the woman enough about when the toy store would go up for rent; she felt that she owed it to Henry’s granddaughter to try to be as understanding and helpful as possible during this hard time. “Is it all right if I come with you, if I can get Dante or Darrin to come in and help Meg out with the deli?”
    “Of course. I’ll just finish up here, and then we can go,” Candice said, turning back to the sink as she hurried to get the last of the dishes clean.
    With Darrin and Meg in charge of Darling’s DELIcious Delights, Moira and Candice took their leave. They headed first to the flower shop in Maple Creek. It was only a few minutes away from the deli, and was owned by an elderly woman and run by her family. Margie Clementine was almost as much of a fixture in town as old Arlo was, though she was considerably more friendly.
    “Moira Darling and her daughter,” Margie said when the two of them walked into the small, sweetly fragrant shop. “I haven’t seen you in here since prom.”
    “It can’t have been that long, Margie,” Moira said with a laugh. They had bought Candice’s corsage there for her senior prom, but that had been three years ago. “I must have bought flowers since then.”
    “If you did, then you must have gone to Samantha Graves over in Lake Marion,” Margie said, wrinkling her button nose. She was seated in an electric wheelchair and had pulled back her nearly translucent white hair into a thin ponytail. “I keep my eye out for familiar faces, and I haven’t seen yours in a while.”
    “Now, now, Ma, don’t attack them,” said a man about Moira’s age with flaming red hair who appeared as if by magic from behind a potted tree. “They’re free to buy their flowers from whomever they want. They can even grow their own if they want,” he chided gently. Then he turned to Moira. “What can we help you with, Ms. Darling?”
    “We know someone who recently lost a grandparent,” she said. “We don’t know her very well; she owns the shop my daughter lives above, but we would still like to get her flowers and maybe a little card. Do you have any suggestions for a nice bouquet?”
    “Lilies are always a good flower to choose for a condolence bouquet,” he said. “Since Ma obviously knows you, I’ll be happy to give you a good price on one. Would you like to see what we have?”
    “Sure. Well, my daughter should really be the one to choose. She knows Alice, that’s the granddaughter of the man that passed away, better than I do.” Moira stepped aside so her daughter could pass, and was about to follow when she felt a smooth, dry hand snag her wrist. She looked down to see Maggie looking expectantly up at her.
    “Who died?” she asked, her milky eyes wide and eager for news.
    “Henry Atkins,” Moira said. “He lived in Lake Marion, I doubt you knew…” But to her surprise, the woman’s eyes filled with tears.
    “Poor old Henry,” she said. “How did he go? Was it peaceful?”
    “Well…” She was tempted to lie to the elderly lady and put her at ease by saying Henry died in his sleep, but she knew it wouldn’t be right. “I heard that he drowned.”
    “Oh my.” Margie shook her head and blotted at her tears with the corner of her worn blouse. “Do they know who did it?” she asked.
    “I think it was an accident,” Moira said, taken aback. “He must have slipped, or lost his balance while he was in a boat. How did you know him?”
    “We went to high school together.” She sniffled. “He was my sweetheart for a long time, until he left for Vietnam. By the time he came back, I was married. But Henry wouldn’t fall out of a boat, he was no fool. He knew his limits, unlike most of us, and he could swim so well I think he must have been part fish.”
    “Accidents happen to the best of us,” Moira replied. “There’s no reason to think someone