Diners, Drive-Ins, And Death: A Comfort Food Mystery - Plot & Excerpts
With it raining like Noah’s flood and ACB yakking nonstop, it’d be a long trip to Auburn Correctional Facility, the home of the first electric chair. She was in the backseat, refreshing her makeup, which meant more coats of everything. When she pulled out a gallon jug of perfume, I asked her to wait until we got outside. It’s not that I objected to perfume; I just needed to breathe a bit. And she’d already sprayed at least three times. She said that she was wearing the muumuu that Sal had bought her for their twentieth anniversary. It had stems of gladiolas circling it. Their roots started at the hem, and their green stalks ran vertically up the garment until the flowers started blooming at her knees, all the way to her neck. She wore several necklaces—from chunky faux stones to a circle of seashells. Her earrings were six-inch starfish, and matched the starfish on her flip-flops. Her fascinator was a nest of plastic pelicans in a nest of feathers in a nest of white lace.
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