Dying For Dinner (A Cooking Class Mystery) - Plot & Excerpts
"A person changes a great deal in forty years. I've seen pictures of my own mum from way back then. Wouldn't even know it was her if she didn't tell me." I was hoping for something more conclusive, and I guess my expression gave me away, because Jim handed the book back to me. "There's a resemblance, sure enough. If you add more than forty years, and more than forty pounds, and a whole lot of gray to his hair . . . yeah, this Norman fellow might look like Jacques. But if it's really him . . ." "Let me see it again." Eve reached over and grabbed the book out of my hands. She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah," she said. "It's him. For sure. Maybe. Or maybe not." My spirits sank. I'd already been over the definitelys and the maybes and the maybe nots inside my head. All the way back from Allentown. I was hoping Eve and Jim would be more help. I squinted at the picture, trying to imagine the fresh-faced boy in it wearing a crisp, white Tres Bonne Cuisine apron and smiling back at me from a jar of Vavoom!
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