Death in a Turkey Town: A Chloe Boston Mystery by Melanie Jackson

coffee house, but I always found it a good place to browse and collect gossip and Becky didn’t mind if I brought Blue. I hesitated before entering though because Dale Gordon was inside and perusing the true crime section at the front of the store. Nothing wrong with that—I read a lot of true crime too—but Dale Gordon was not a reader. Nor did he have Althea by his side.
    Squinting through the glass, I managed to read the title of the book in his hands: “Wicked Plants: The Weed That Killed Lincoln’s Mother”. There was more in tiny print but I couldn’t read it.
    After my first snort of laughter at the idea of Dale actually offing his mother, I began to sober. Murder and murderers were not something to laugh about, especially not when there might be one walking the streets of Hope Falls.
    I went back to my vehicle without venturing inside. My brain was spinning like a centrifuge, throwing ideas out as it separated the gold from the dross. This notion taking shape wasn’t a clue yet, it was too amorphous, but it told me the direction to travel. Reluctantly, I decided that I would have some lunch with Alex—supposing that Dad could spare him—and then drop in to see my cousin and talk about… things . Like where Aunt Dorothy’s gun might have gotten to. I didn’t really suspect Althea of killing Silly Gordon, but the gun needed to be found so we could rule her and Aunt Dorothy out, and obviously Mom wasn’t going to press the point.
    Alex had time for lunch, but only barely. Greatly distracted by Dad’s enormous to-do list, I got only half a sandwich and a casual hug. But just before I left Hope Falls Park something else happened. It wasn’t deliberate and I think that for a moment Alex wasn’t even aware of what he said, but then you could see the light dawn as he replayed his final sentence: Love you, sweetie. I’ll be home by five.
    Stunned, I didn’t know what to say back so settled for telling him not to get cold or let Dad work him too hard. I was so shocked by his casual declaration that I didn’t even notice that Blue remained with Alex and the bag of sugar cookies.
    Damn. He’d gone and used the L-word. I felt happy and dismayed and panicked.
    My life is pretty streamlined since my close call with the cheating pustule, David Cooper. It had been challenging to make a place for Alex and that had worked out because he was usually two states away. Boyfriends take effort. Like constant and discrete hair removal and they eat twice as much as any regular friend. Of course, there is enjoyable stuff too. Alex and I had fun and were a good fit professionally, but was I really ready for anything else? Was he— really?
    Maybe it was hypocritical—okay, it was hypocritical—but it seemed okay to feel love as long as we didn’t talk about it or make any long-term plans.
    I drove on autopilot. My cousin was at home—darn it—so I stopped. It took me a moment to gather my wits and to push thoughts of Alex away.
    “Come in! I’m going crazy anyway,” Althea said less than graciously. As if her problems had anything to do with me.
    “Hello yourself,” I said back. The living room was awash with bridal magazines, many of them torn to pieces. I suspected that they were ones with unwanted suggestions from Gordon’s mother. A few stray sparkles of gold glitter on the covers confirmed this hypothesis.
    “That woman! That…. whose wedding is it anyway? Who’s the bride—just tell me that!”
    Given Mitzi’s sheer horribleness, I began to belatedly wonder what had become of Mr. Gordon. Dale never mentioned him. Had he impregnated Dale’s mom and then wisely headed for green—and quieter—pastures?
    “Are Gordon’s parents divorced?” I asked Althea as I found a place to sit. “Will his father be at the wedding?”
    “No. His dad died about ten years ago—thank heavens I won’t have to deal with a second wife. I can just imagine the seating chart. The only way this is going to work is if I make