Shadows in Scarlet
Shadows in Scarlet
“Not Cynthia's smiling face. But still she wished she'd worn a crucifix.Cynthia whisked her into a living room that looked like an advertisement for a furniture gallery. “How are you this morning, Amanda dear? Well, I suppose I should say this afternoon, it's straight up noon. I'd expect you to arrive right on the dot. Would you like a small glass of sherry? Not that I indulge at lunchtime every day, you understand, but today is special.""No, thank you. Some iced tea would be nice.""Of course. I...'ll get it for you. Sit down.” Cynthia's color was high and her flowing skirts snapped as she walked. She disappeared through a swinging door, providing a glimpse of a gleaming country-style kitchen and the two caterers who had fed the garden club on Friday.Mouth-watering odors wafted to Amanda's nostrils. Inhaling deeply, she perched on the edge of a Queen Anne chair, yanked her skirt down to her knees—odd, how short it seemed—and tried to fluff up her hair. There was something to be said for wearing a cap every day, especially in this humidity.Wayne lumbered into the room, spruced up in a suit and tie, his limp noticeably absent.MoreLess
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