Lethal Lasagna by Rhonda Gibson

here?”
    Her soft laughter tinkled as she opened the refrigerator and grabbed a soda. “Greg has open house tonight at his school. Besides, can’t a girl just come see her mom?” she popped the top and drank deeply.
    “Oh course.” I scooped up the paper and pencil.
    “I needed that.” She sighed as she lowered the can. “Whatcha got there?” Her gaze had moved to the writing materials in my arms.
    I closed the notebook and smiled. “Just some stuff I’m putting away. Nothing important.” I slipped the notebook and pencil into the junk drawer. The crazy thing wouldn’t go down flat.
    “Then why do you look like one of my students who’s trying to hide something from me?” She grinned knowingly.
    It was silly to try to conceal what I was doing. Besides, why was I trying to keep it a secret from her? She was my daughter, not my mother. Still I asked, “What makes you think I’m hiding something from you?” I shoved things around. Still the notebook refused to lay flat enough to close the overstuffed drawer.
    “Aren’t you?” This banter was getting us nowhere. I frowned.
    Megan laughed. “Jake called this morning. He’s worried about something you said ...” she raised a light brown eyebrow. “About his mother.”
    “Meddling kids.” I muttered, pulling the notebook from the drawer.
    My daughter laughed. “Mom, this isn’t Scooby Doo, and you aren’t Velma. Jake says you’re looking through Mitzi’s things for a clue to who might have killed her. Shouldn’t you be leaving this to the police?”
    My voice rose. “The police? They think I did it. I have to clear my name don’t I? Besides I’m more of a Daphne, than a Velma. “
    She slipped into a kitchen chair. “You’re kidding. Right?” Concern laced her delicate features.
    I joined her at the table. “Nope, I’m a Daphne not a Velma.” The cheeky grin I gave her did not soften my daughter.
    “Mom, you know that’s not what I was talking about.”
    “You know they took me in shortly afterwards. Well, I’ve been in several times since then. This last time, I’d had enough. I’m going to find Mitzi’s killer and clear my name.”
    “I don’t know. This could be dangerous.” Her gaze met mine across the table.
    “I’m not doing anything dangerous. Just asking a few questions. Following in her footsteps and having a good time.”
    “Having fun! Having fun! Have you lost your mind?” Her voice went so high I’m sure only dolphins and I could understand her now.
    I laughed. She stared at me as if I’d grown fangs. “Look Megan. All I’ve done is join Mitzi’s old writing class and gone to her church. Does that sound dangerous to you?” From the look on her face, I gathered she didn’t buy it and thought both actions meant I was in mortal danger.
    Suspicion laced her voice when she asked. “Really? Then, where does Brandon Harvest come into all this?”
    My little girl had done her homework. “He’s my writing instructor.”
    “Interesting.” A relieved smile touched her lips. “Is that why you purchased a date with him at the high school auction?”
    Heat filled my face. “That was an accident.”
    She laughed.
    Later, after an old movie and tons of iced tea and popcorn, I hugged my daughter goodbye. “Tell Greg I said hello.”
    “I will.” She walked to her car and then turned back around. “Mom, please be careful.”
    I laughed. “Going to writing class and church have never been dangerous. But, I will.”
    Megan smiled, waved, and then got in her car and drove away.
    The sounds of rustling in the bushes scared me. I turned to see what made the noise. Sara stood up.
    “I’m sorry, Claire. I hope I didn’t scare you.” She sniffled. “I just came by to see if you have any chicken soup.”
    “Sure. Come on inside.” I wondered what she’d been doing in the bushes.
    Sara followed. “Did you get a new cat?” she asked as she closed the back door behind us.
    “No.” I walked to the canned good