Part 4 (2/2)

”He had to get a part for the b.u.mper and it won't be ready for two days,” she said as her voice trailed off to a whisper.

I leaned back on the couch and looked at the ceiling. The ceiling was beamed in beautiful, dark oak that reflected the warm light from the fire and made the room feel cozy and peaceful. It belied the bedlam in which I found myself.

The fire needed stoking. I dutifully put another log on, and it started to blaze again. I returned to the couch and was actually quite comfortable. I looked over to see both of them looking at me, with more than a little anxiety.

Hannah said in a voice as low, deliberate and calm as a doctor who was about to put a straightjacket on you, ”We would love you to stay the night. We have plenty of room. Don't we Margaret?” She looked to Maggie for help.

”Of course we do, Kate.” The straightjacket was coming as she continued, ”It's pouring and Chance seems to be having fun.”

I looked at my cur sprawled in front of the fire. ”True, true. She does look comfy. That is important,” I said.

”And it's getting late and you haven't eaten supper. And you two never told me what you were talking about when I was on the phone,” Hannah added with a hopeful smile.

”And Aunt Hannah is terribly sorry she had your car towed. Aren't you, Aunt Hannah?” Maggie added, scowling at her aunt.

”Yes, very sorry, truly I am.”

She did sound sorry. As I'm sure Murphy may have sounded right before his law went into effect.

Well, I thought, it could be worse. I could be on the side of the road, stranded in a storm. However, right at this moment...

”Please say something dear, you're making Margaret nervous,” Hannah said with a wicked grin.

Oh, this woman.

I started chuckling. What else could I do? ”Thank you, I'd love to spend the evening.”

Hannah breathed a very heavy sigh of relief. ”Good, now let's go into the kitchen, we'll make dinner, have a nice bottle of wine, and oh, I have a marvelous idea. We'll have a slumber party!” she howled with excitement.

I wasn't sure about Maggie, but I was dumbfounded.

Hannah laughed and conceded. ”Well, let's start with a nice bottle of wine and then let the chips fall where they may!”

Chapter Five.

I looked out at the pouring rain and was glad I wasn't out in it. I stood at the kitchen window, with my hands in my pockets, staring out at the darkness. Thinking of the day's events, I wondered if I was in over my head with this one. Helping Jan last year was one thing. This might be quite another. I'd now been away from the P.I. scene for four long years. My instincts were failing me and I wondered if I could be any help at all.

The wind was howling and the temperature dropped dramatically yet again. I should go out to my car and get my sweater. I should remember I don't have my car. I turned to see Maggie watching me as she sat at the table with her foot propped up on another kitchen chair.

”A penny for your thoughts,” she said. ”Or at your age, are you finding it difficult to gather them?”

I saw the mischievous grin and was about to say something, probably sarcastic, when Hannah started down the cellar stairs.

Maggie apparently didn't think it was a good idea. ”Aunt Hannah, do not go down that steep staircase.”

”Oh, don't be such a ninny. I'm fine. Besides, it's not as if you could go get us a bottle of wine.”

I threw my hands up and started down the cellar steps, listening to the two of them bantering back and forth. I had such a headache.

It was dark in the cellar. I turned on the wall switch and a small light went on, which did not illuminate as much as I had hoped. As I walked down the stairs, the dampness. .h.i.t me right in the face, and I s.h.i.+vered violently. Cellars gave me the creeps.

Through the dimly lit room, I saw a large wine selection in the far corner. There were boxes and old furniture in the other corner. There was a small cellar window at the top of that wall, which looked like it was in serious need of a cleaning. However, who could reach it? Next to it was a stairwell of six or so steps leading up to another door that I a.s.sumed led outside.

I turned my attention back to my task. I perused the selection before me. ”Okay, if I were filthy rich, which wine would I choose?” Not knowing what I was looking for, I closed my eyes and randomly reached for a bottle. I looked at the label. ”Rothschild Bordeaux 1958. It's got dust all over it. It's either very good or very bad. The Winfield ladies will tell me I'm sure,” I said in a haughty tone and blew the dust off the bottle and headed upstairs.

They were both still babbling as I came back up the stairs. Hannah stopped her prattle long enough to give Maggie a scathing look.

”See what you've done,” she scolded and Maggie glared at her and got the gla.s.ses.

I handed the bottle to Hannah who blinked several times. ”You have excellent taste, Kate.”

Maggie looked at the bottle and laughed as she opened it, then poured three gla.s.ses of the red wine.

”What? Isn't it a good year?” I asked, as if I have any idea what a good year was.

With a smug grin, Maggie handed me a gla.s.s. ”Oh, it'll do. It comes out to roughly $88.00 a gla.s.s.”

Now I blinked several times. I looked from the winegla.s.s to both women. ”Oh.”

”Oh, indeed. A toast,” Hannah said.

Oh G.o.d, I thought.

”Christ,” Maggie grumbled.

”Shut up, dear,” Hannah said to her without looking at her. We lifted our gla.s.ses. ”A toast, to our new friend, Kate, a good sport and hopefully... a good cook.”

”Here, here,” added Maggie.

We touched our gla.s.ses together and not one of them broke. Maybe it was going to be a good night after all.

”Now,” I said rubbing my hands together. ”Apparently, I'm cooking. So, you don't mind if I invade your kitchen, do you?”

”G.o.d no,” said Maggie. ”I don't cook all that much, I leave that to Aunt Hannah.”

”By all means dear, invade, invade!” Hannah said.

I went over to the refrigerator, opened it and found it completely stocked.

”Okay, what'll it be?” I asked.

”I bought some gorgeous steaks yesterday,” Hannah said. ”There's some asparagus in there and fixings for salad.”

”Great, then steaks it is. Okay with you Miss Winfield?” I asked.

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