Chapter Three––––––––
Red was taken aback. “A reception? With...food?”
“Of course with food! This is the South, Red. People want food when they’re grieving. People expect food when they’re grieving,” said Myrtle.
“They don’t expect the kind of food you cook, Mama.” Red and Miles exchanged grim looks.
“I think they’ll be delighted,” said Myrtle. She frowned. “Are you trying to be ugly about my cooking again?”
“I’m just saying that, unless you want a whole bunch more dead bodies on your property, I’d consider getting your reception catered,” said Red. “Okay, that’s it for me. Miles, I’ll be getting back in touch with you soon I’m sure. I better head over to the station and fill out paperwork.” He headed to the front door.
Myrtle said quickly, “Better watch out. Erma has left her lair a
