Classified As Murder полностью

“It’s extremely generous, but I didn’t try to argue with him.”

“What about this family of his?” Sean said. “Do you know any of them?”

“No, I don’t,” I replied. “And I’ll admit I’m very curious about them. Especially if one of them is stealing books from the collection.”

“You’d better hope whoever’s doing it doesn’t turn nasty when they find out what you’re doing there.” Sean tugged at Dante’s leash when the poodle stopped to sniff at a shrub.

“That’s for Mr. Delacorte to handle,” I said firmly.

A few minutes later we arrived at Helen Louise’s place, and Sean stopped by an empty table on the patio. “If you want to go in first, I’ll stay out here and watch the guys.” He indicated Diesel and Dante with a nod.

I smiled. “It’s okay. Helen Louise spent some time in Paris. Having animals in the bakery doesn’t bother her.”

“Isn’t it a violation of the health code here to have them inside?” Sean frowned, looking very stern and lawyerish.

“Technically, yes, but I take Diesel in with me all the time. So far no one’s raised a fuss about it. And if anyone does, Helen Louise would probably kick them out and not let them back in.” I laughed as I opened the door and motioned for Sean and Dante to precede me and Diesel.

Sean shrugged. “If you say it’s okay.” Dante, already excited by the delicious smells, strained at his leash.

I glanced at my watch. Our leisurely walk had taken us twenty minutes, but we were still here well before the usual Saturday lunch crowd. Helen Louise stood behind the counter, chatting with a customer. I approached, Sean right behind me, and waited until Helen Louise finished.

“Charlie, you sure know how to make a Saturday sparkle. How lovely to see you.” Helen Louise smiled broadly. Then she noticed Sean with me, and she arched one eyebrow. “And who is this très beau young man with you?” She extended a hand across the counter. “You must be Sean.”

“Merci, mam’selle. Tu est très gentille.” Sean clasped her hand briefly and smiled back at her.

Sean’s French accent was pretty good, to judge by Helen Louise’s delighted expression. “Et tu est très charmant, m’sieur.”

Dante jumped up several times, and Helen Louise grinned. “Et le petit chien aussi.”

“Now that you’ve officially shown off how cosmopolitan you both are, can we talk about lunch?” I smiled to show that I was teasing, and Sean laughed along with Helen Louise.

“Certainment, mon cher. What would you like?” Helen Louise thought a moment. “We have fresh quiche, au gruyère or sausage, cheese, and onion. There’s also salade niçoise or a spring mix salad with my special dressing.”

Sean grimaced at the mention of the first salad choice. He didn’t care for tuna and anchovies any more than I did. “I’ll have the sausage, cheese, and onion quiche with the spring mix salad. And still water.” He turned to me. “Dad?”

“I’ll go for the same. Thanks, son. And be sure to save room for dessert. You won’t regret it.” I patted my stomach.

“You two have a seat over there.” Helen Louise indicated a table in the corner near the cash register. “I’ll have your food out in a few minutes, and then you can fill me in on what you’ve been up to lately. It seems like forever since I’ve seen you.”

“It’s a deal.” I smiled as Helen Louise whisked away.

Sean and I made ourselves comfortable, and Dante and Diesel settled down beneath the table, almost nose to nose. I was glad to see they were still getting along so well.

True to her word, Helen Louise was back in less than five minutes. She set our salads, quiches, and water before us with a flourish. She had also brought two bowls and extra bottles of water for her four-legged guests. While Helen Louise went back to fetch some coffee for herself, Sean and I gave the boys their water first and then dug into our food with gusto. I was hungrier than I realized.

A shrill voice interrupted my concentration and startled both Sean and me.

“What are those filthy animals doing in here?”

Sean and I turned at the same time. Standing not three feet from our table was a rotund little robin of a woman with red hair teased into an upswept hairdo that must have added six inches to her height. Hands on hips, body a-tremble, she regarded Diesel and Dante with an expression of horror.

“They aren’t bothering anyone.” Sean stood and glared down at the woman. “They are minding their own business.”

“That’s as may be.” The woman’s tone in response was as acid as Sean’s was sarcastic. “They are still filthy animals, and they have no business in a place where people are eating.”

Before either Sean or I could respond, Helen Louise entered the fray, coffee cup in hand. She tapped the woman on the shoulder with her free hand, and she turned to face Helen Louise, obviously annoyed by the interruption.

Helen Louise didn’t give her a chance to speak.