The Busy Woman's Guide to Murder by Mary Jane Maffini Page A

Kandees and spent a happy hour strolling through snowy uptown Woodbridge. The dogs cooperated for once. When we’d finished, we headed in Kristee’s. I wanted to get a couple of boxes of Kristee’s black-and-white fudge, which is my gift of choice for hostesses, people in hospitals, reluctant sources in investigations, bribable police officers, and myself. Just because.
    Kristee is never the sunniest of individuals, to understate the case. It’s always a surprise that she can turn out such yummy confections when you can practically see the black cloud of misery over her head. Today she scowled as I walked through the door. She extended the scowl to Jack.
    “I’m staying outside with the dogs,” Jack said.
    Truffle and Sweet Marie sniffed the air. They love this place because Kristee has a special line of homemade peanut butter dog biscuits. Of course, pesky health rules kept them outside the shop. I think Jack was grateful for them.
    “Charlotte,” Kristee said. She stretched her lips out to simulate a smile that could fool no one.
    “That must be painful,” Jack muttered from behind me. Out loud he said, “I’d better put some money in the parking meter.”
    “Don’t need to pay on Sunday,” Kristee countered. From her expression she thought that was a bad idea. You might assume a business person would have encouraged anything that made life easier for customers, such as free parking.
    “How are you, Kristee?” I realized I was dreading the answer. Kristee could often have a tale of woe that was entirely of her own making. As long as I’d been coming there, it was always something.
    As usual, Kristee had a bit of icing sugar in her short, dark hair. She often dyed it blond or red, but her natural dark hair suited her. She was as plump as one of her hand-dipped chocolates and was quite pretty when she wasn’t in a sour mood.
    “Worse than usual,” she said. “I imagine you are too.”
    “What?”
    “Well, you know. Bad enough it’s April, usually a good month for me, with ice cream sales going up, but now with this bad weather, people are staying home in droves. Also Serena Redding’s back in the area and you know what that means.”
    I was surprised to hear Kristee echo Mona’s comments. “I know what it used to mean. But surely people like Serena don’t have power over any of us anymore,” I said.
    She dismissed that with a shrug.
    “If they ever did,” I added.
    Kristee shot me a venomous glance. I turned and checked the window. I guess Jack had caught a bit of that glance. He recoiled and appeared to trip over his own feet.
    I reminded myself to stand firm and remember the fudge. I thought reinforcements would be good. “Excuse me a minute.” I opened the door and told Jack to put the dogs in the car and join me. I was undeterred by the pathetic expression on his face.
    As he dragged himself through the door, I said, “We were just discussing Serena’s return and whether or not she could still have power over any of us.”
    Jack said, “Did she have all that much power?”
    Kristee said, “Guys have no idea about the kind of control she had over everyone. I’m speaking as a fat girl who still bears the scars.”
    Of course, that would have been something else I hadn’t paid attention to. “Did they make your life miserable too?”
    Kristee curled her upper lip. “You mean all the pig remarks? The snorting whenever I tried to take a bite of my lunch. The bacon jokes. The snapping sounds that were supposed to be my waistband popping. I hated every minute I was in that school. Those pig jokes? They were just the warm-up.”
    I thought I saw a shake in her hand.
    I shook my head. “Too rough to talk about.”
    Kristee curled her lip. “How would you know, Little Miss Perfect?”
    “You’re right. I guess I was kind of oblivious. I feel bad that I didn’t pay attention to what they were doing.”
    “Huh. They didn’t give you any grief. You were always just right, mincing