Diners, Drive-Ins, and Death: A Comfort Food Mystery by Christine Wenger Page B

that maybe someone had been in ACB’s stuff, but ACB would probably be the only one who could tell. And even she would have trouble. I shook my head as I climbed the narrow stairs to the attic.
    The closet with Aunt Stella’s clothes was just to the left of the entryway. It was a huge thing, and I remembered playing with dolls in it with my sister, Susie, when we were kids.
    I opened the doors and caught the scent of cedar—the same scent I remembered from all those years ago.
    I slid the hangers one at a time to take a good look. There were a couple of classic gowns—the kind that never go out of style. Of them, there was one that I really liked. It had a glittery copperish bodice and the rest was a creamy crepe. It’d never be long enough, but maybe I could pass it off as tea length.
    Closing the closet, I took the gown back to my room and hung it on a hanger on the back of the bathroom door to let it air out.
    I’d try it on later, but first I needed to sleep for a good twenty-four hours.
    *   *   *
    I don’t know how long I slept, but the sound of a phone ringing annoyed me like the buzzing of a grass trimmer.
    Would someone please answer that?
    Then I realized that the buzzing was my cell phone and it wasn’t going to stop.
    I slid the green arrow thing. “Huh?”
    “Trixie! Thank goodness!”
    “What’s wrong, Antoinette Chloe?” She must have had me on speed dial.
    “Chad Dodson is in town! He’s riding around in that classic red Thunderbird of his. I saw him pull up to the Crossroads and go in.”
    “Hmm . . . he’s probably in town for Nick’s calling hours. Maybe we could talk to him tonight and find out what the bad blood was between him and Nick.”
    “Should I tell Ty that I saw him?”
    “You should. Yes.”
    “But, Trixie, I’m just so tired. It was a long day with Ty, and although he’s positively a piece of eye candy and I just adore the way he speaks—you know, like a Houston cowboy—I am simply tired of thinking. I think I’ll just point Chad out to Ty tonight.”
    “That’ll probably be okay.” I yawned. “Antoinette Chloe, what time is it?”
    “Five o’clock.”
    “No way!” Where had the time gone? I had a million things to do. Plus I had to get ready for the calling hours. “I’ll see you in a bit. Are you coming back here?”
    “Yes. I have to get ready for tonight.”
    “Just what I was thinking. See you in a while.”
    I jumped in the shower. Every now and then, I scored on the perfect water temperature. Today was that day, and I didn’t want to get out. Finally I forced myself to turn off the water, and I blow-dried my hair with lots of product in it so I couldhave some version of a hairdo for a while, until it drooped.
    I slipped on my only black dress, bought purposely for wakes and funerals. Then I went down to the kitchen to get something to eat and to let Blondie out.
    After emptying the dishwasher, I put everything away, made a tuna-fish sandwich on rye, poured myself an iced tea, and went out to the porch.
    The fishermen were gathered around the cleaning stations and filleting their catches. Large white coolers were scattered around the lawn, and the gulls were squawking overhead.
    It looked like they had had a successful catch.
    A group of men were eating at the picnic table next to Cottage Two. A family was playing badminton. Cottage Nine’s residents were grilling something and it smelled divine, like burgers or steak. A couple was going out in a canoe.
    I loved the fact that my cottages were full and that people were enjoying themselves.
    Looking to the right, I saw Ty walking my way. He looked like he had on a pair of black khakis and a black blazer. As he got closer, I noticed that his hat was black, his shirt was white, his alligator boots were polished, and he didn’t wear a tie.
    He looked marvelous, actually, not that I was looking or anything.
    “Howdy, Trixie.” He tipped his black cowboy hat. “You’re looking mighty