Harley Rushes In (Book 2 of the Blue Suede Mysteries) by Virginia Brown Page A

harder questions. And you better be prepared to tell the truth, because a lie will only make things worse.”
    “Worse? For whom?” Madelyn’s eyes darted to her sister, and Harley once more got the feeling there was something going on they weren’t telling.
    “For anyone dumb enough to lie to cops,” she said bluntly.
    Madelyn immediately fluffed up like an irate chicken. It wasn’t an attractive look for her. She had one of those long, thin patrician noses, and it quivered like a bird’s beak.
    “I’m getting tired of you accusing me of lying!”
    “Why won’t you answer a simple question? Were you with Aunt Darcy Thursday night? Can you give her an alibi for her whereabouts between six and nine?”
    For a moment Harley thought her cousin would refuse to answer, then she blew out an exasperated sigh and said, “No, I wasn’t with Mama Thursday night. She went to a Junior League meeting, however, so she has plenty of people who can give her an alibi.”
    Harley didn’t mention seeing Aunt Darcy’s car leave the parking lot of the shop at a time that’d be certain to incriminate her. There had to be a good reason for it. She hoped.
    “Girls,” Grandmother Eaton interrupted with a definite edge in her voice, “do hush. I believe Darcy has arrived at last.”
    A slight commotion in the entrance hall preceded Aunt Darcy’s arrival, and Harley heard Janet, Grandmother Eaton’s British housekeeper, ask Darcy if she’d meant to leave her car door open like that.
    “No,” Darcy said over her shoulder, sounding harried and looking frightful, “go out and close it if you like. Mama, I need a drink. Something strong. Quick!”
    Amanda had already started toward the liquor cabinet, and Harley just watched as Darcy staggered across the entrance hall and to a dining room chair, flopping into it. Her hair stuck out at odd angles, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She wore a rumpled blouse and dark slacks, and absolutely no jewelry. Grandmother Eaton looked frozen in place, and Madelyn stared at her mother with something like shock on her face.
    Harley blinked. This Aunt Darcy bore only the faintest resemblance to the impeccably garbed woman she usually saw. Her hands shook, her bare lips quivered, and until she’d downed three fingers of bourbon, neat, she didn’t say another word.
    Silence sounded loud in the dining room. They all waited like eager beagles, gazing at Darcy Fontaine as she held out her glass for more bourbon. Amanda obliged.
    Darcy raised the glass in her hand, shaking only slightly. “Gestapo. That’s what they are down there, Nazi officers! I’ve never been so thoroughly humiliated in my entire life. I’m calling a lawyer.” Her gaze moved around the dining room and lit on Harley. Then her eyes narrowed. “Your friend Bobby is the first man I intend to sue!”
    It was obvious she was expected to say something in return, so Harley asked, “Was he rude to you?”
    “Rude? Rude?” Her voice rose shrilly on the last word. “He practically accused me of murder!”
    That wasn’t unexpected. Bobby was usually pretty quick on the uptake, and he no doubt asked her if someone could vouch for her whereabouts when her business partner was killed. It wasn’t an unusual question, Harley thought, but of course, Aunt Darcy wouldn’t acknowledge that.
    “I’m sure he doesn’t suspect you, Aunt Darcy,” she said in the most reasonable tone she could manage, “he just has to eliminate everyone who didn’t want to kill Harry.”
    That reassurance apparently wasn’t as soothing as she’d meant it. Aunt Darcy sat up with a jerk, spilling some of her bourbon.
    “Well, I never said I didn’t want to kill Harry!”
    Harley stared at her. “Great. I hope that isn’t a confession.”
    “Really,” Grandmother Eaton said rather shakily, “you shouldn’t say such things.”
    “My thought exactly. Aunt Darcy needs to watch what she says.” Harley glanced at her cousins, who were staring