Murder in Aix (The Maggie Newberry Mystery Series Book 5) by Susan Kiernan-Lewis Page A

process of glaring daggers at
Maggie. The woman next to Michelle must be Jacques’s ex-wife, Annette. Maggie
had assumed she might see these two here, but it hadn’t occurred to her the
confrontation would be so direct. It did occur to her as she edged closer to
the two glowering women that perhaps this wasn’t going to be the best time to
do anything but say sorry for your troubles and leave as quickly as possible. The thought came to her that Grace’s sarcasm
had been closer to the mark when she suggested that Maggie dispense with the attempt
to question anyone and just slip off to poke around the house. Too late now.
    “Hello, Madame Tatois,”
Maggie said, stepping forward to shake hands with Lily and deftly handing her
sherry glass to Michelle, who took it without thinking. “I am so sorry for your
loss.”
    Lily murmured
something complicated in French, but before Maggie could attempt to respond Michelle
blurted out, “She is a friend of Papa’s murderer ,
Aunt Lily!”
    When her aunt
turned to her in confusion, Annette took the opportunity to clamp a heavy hand
down on her daughter’s arm, spilling Maggie’s sherry on her sleeve. “Not now , Michelle,” she hissed through
clenched teeth.
    Before a full-fledged
family brawl could erupt, Maggie moved on quickly to Florrie and extended her
hand. “And you must be Florian, Jacques’s cousin,” she said hurriedly, aware
that Michelle was standing up now. “My husband, Laurent Dernier, sends his
condolences, as he was not able to accompany me today.”
    “You are
Laurent’s wife?”
    “Yes, and again,
our deepest condolences.”
    “I tell you, she
is connected to the person who killed Papa! Why is nobody listening to me?”
    Unfortunately, it
looked to Maggie as if too many people were listening to Michelle, as the noise
level and rate of heads twisting to see toward the front of the line had
noticeably increased.
    Michelle grabbed Maggie’s
arm and twisted her to face her. “American whore!” she shrieked and threw the
contents of her sherry glass into Maggie’s face. Maggie gasped and reached out
blindly, the alcohol stinging her eyes, the fumes choking her. She could feel
the liquid seeping down the front of her dress.
    “Michelle!”
Florrie cried out. “She is a guest in our house!”
    “This is not your house, you crapaud !” Michelle screamed. As Maggie struggled to see through the
burning alcohol, she felt the girl grab her by the arms, her nails digging
sharply into her flesh. “Get OUT!” Michelle screamed.
    Maggie began to
fall backwards as Michelle gripped her, and thrashed out with her arms in a
panic to try to prevent the fall. Michelle jerked away from her, leaving a
trail of bloody scratches down Maggie’s bare arms. Maggie pawed at her face to
wipe away the alcohol as she stumbled away from the group. When she opened her
eyes, she saw that Florrie was holding Michelle with both hands, his face
florid and stunned and looking at Maggie.
    “Take her away to
compose herself,” Lily said to Florrie, who began to drag Michelle away.  
    “Are you mad? She
helped plan Papa’s murder! She is the accomplice to the murdering whore!”
Michelle’s shrieks and threats continued until they faded into the far recesses
of the house.
    Lily leaned over
and spoke quickly to Annette who, giving Maggie a look of pure hatred, stood
and addressed the receiving line. “Aunt Lily is tired now. I am sorry. If you
will write in the condolences book, there will be no more visits today. Thank
you all for coming.” When she finished she turned to Lily, but the old woman
was already beckoning Maggie to come closer.
    “You knew my
nephew, Madame?” Lily asked her. Her voice was kind but her eyes, now that
Maggie really looked at them, seemed cloudy and vague.
    “I did, Madame Tatois,”
Maggie said, rubbing her arms and forcing herself not to look at Annette, who she could feel was glaring at her. “And
I am so sorry to meet you under these