Evan’s eyes narrowed, and he turned back to look at the group of women. “Maybe. I just don’t trust them.”
Catching his eye, Betty waved at him with what Marshall could only call a taunting wink. Evan scoffed, turning to admire the food.
“What can I get you?” Marshall asked, noticing his friend’s hands were empty. He walked behind the kitchen island, where his mother was pouring drinks and handing them to their guests as Fletcher King stood, clasping his elbows and laughing with Evan’s father, Thomas Thomson.
It was nice to see that Evan’s parents and his siblings had all shown up to support Edith. Marshall could see them all dispersed throughout the crowd. Evan had two brothers and asister who all lived in town or on the Thomson family ranch. The Kings and Thomsons had grown close throughout the years. It was no surprise to see them turning up after such an awful tragedy.
Pulling two glasses from the cupboard, Marshall poured them each a healthy dose of whiskey. Clinking their glasses together in a salute to Jack, they leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the crowd of guests milling about.
“Did I miss anything?” Marshall asked.
“The town council is here,” Evan explained. “Apparently, everyone is very nervous about the murder.”
“It hasn’t been confirmed yet. Can’t those gossips wait a damn minute?”
“I guess not,” Evan said with a shrug. His friend took a small plate from the counter and selected a sandwich.
Marshall rolled his eyes at how long it took Evan to choose. He had no appetite since the funeral. Eating to survive was his strategy. Maybe he would pick a sandwich too.
“Mmm… This tuna salad looks amazing,” Evan said as he took a large bite. “Have some, Marshall.”
Marshall watched as his friend spoke, his mouth stuffed.
All Marshall could manage was a shake of his head. He grabbed a cookie from a platter and bit into it. The cookie was good, though not as tasty as the ones Colette had made him.
“Who do you think would have killed Jack?” Evan asked, his eyes wandering to the cluster of old women having a lively discussion in the living room. Eyes narrowing, Evan took another bite of his sandwich, mumbling a barely comprehensible. “They’re so shady.”
“What do you have against a group of sweet old ladies?”
Evan snorted. “Please. You know what they did to my little brother. I will never forget.”
“Isn’t Harry happy in a relationship now? Doesn’t seem so evil to me,” Marshall noted.
“My brother was living his best life. A real innocent, you know? Then they interfered,” Evan explained in a dramatic tone. “I swear they plotted together to get him to settle down.”
Marshall shrugged. “It seems like Harry is better off for their interference. Look at him over there, he looks real cozy with Julia. Maybe you could do with some help yourself,” he said with a chuckle.
Evan’s eyes widened at the words. He shook his head in disdain. “Don’t you dare wish that upon me. Focus on figuring out what happened to Jack,” Evan scoffed, picking up another sandwich while maintaining a slow, judgmental head shake.
“It’s all a mystery to me. I’ve known everyone here for almost a decade, if not more,” Marshall said, swallowing the second half of the dessert. Maybe he would have a sandwich. It would help the whiskey go down more smoothly.
He watched as Evan rolled his eyes in ecstasy as he bit into the second sandwich.
“The turkey is divine,” his friend gushed. “I don’t know what Edna puts in her food to make it so delicious. It’s some kind of magic, that’s for sure. More reason they can’t be trusted.”
Marshall studied the magic sandwiches, his eyes distracted by a flash of gray in the crowd.
Colette.
He hated seeing her in such dark tones; it didn’t suit her at all. Used to her wearing brighter shades, Marshall wondered if it was just the tone of gray making her look pale. Perhaps she was unwell or had missed some sleep like he had.
“I have to go,” Marshall said to Evan, who was blissfully engaging in a moment with half a roast beef sandwich.
“You know where to find me, buddy,” Evan mumbled. “I’ll keep watch over the sandwiches.”
No sandwich was safe as long as Evan stood there.
Taking his glass with him, Marshall walked a direct path to Colette, barely sparing a word or a comment for anyone who stopped him on the way. She was standing next to Simone and Roger, conversing about the latest that was going on with Colette’s old employer.
