Hot Dish Heaven: A Murder Mystery With Recipes Read Online Free Page B

crunched.
    Margie’s cheeks flushed slightly before she hurried back to the subject of murder, evidently something far easier for a humble Scandinavian to deal with than a compliment. “Anyways, Wally’s aunt lives just north of the beet plant. He wanted to rest at her house until he felt better, but she wasn’t home. So he went for a walk along the river there. And lo and behold, he came upon Samantha Berg. She was dead and nearly naked.” She pivoted toward the stove before wheeling back around. “Naturally, he didn’t know it was Samantha at the time.” She arched her pale eyebrows. “Had he been from ’round here, he probably would of. Like I told ya, most men in the county could of identified that big, bare ass.” She shuffled to the stove.
    “What did he do?”
    “He called the police, who called the FBI. They told him to stick around while they investigated, so he ended up stayin’ with his aunt for darn near a month, if you can imagine that.”
    She removed a kettle of rice from a burner and poured its contents into the baking dish. “While he was there, his cousin had a barbecue. That’s where he met Little Val.” She trudged to the sink and dropped the empty pot into one of the deep basins. The thud made me jump, and she chuckled again.
    Once back at the table, she stirred the hot dish a final time before nodding at the double wall oven. “Grab the top oven door, will ya?”
    I did, and she slid the dish onto the upper rack. “They hit it off right away,” she said. “They’re musicians, don’t ya know. Little Val plays the piano, and Wally, the guitar, and both sing.”
    She wiped her hands on the soiled towel that draped her shoulder and headed back to the steel work station. “When they got engaged, he quit his job in Fargo and got another at the crop insurance office in Hallock. Now they’re married and expectin’ a baby. They’re nice folks.”
    “Did the FBI ever solve the murder?”
    “No,” Margie replied, handing me the recipe for Uncle Ben’s Hot Dish. “They never did, which is just fine by me.”

Chapter 5
    Uff-da, it’s hard to believe Little Val and Wally have been married goin’ on two years. Time sure does fly.”
    Margie wagged her finger at me. “Now that weddin’ was really somethin’.” She shook her head. “Little Val’s dad, Vern, was still recuperatin’ from the baler accident, but that didn’t slow her ma down one iota. No, not one iota.
    “The weddin’ took place in the spring, just before plantin’. The reception and dance were held down the hall, in the ‘V.’ The band was Mid-life Crisis, out of Grand Forks. Ever hear of ’em?”
    “No, can’t say I have.”
    “Oh, they’re good. Or, I should say, they were good. They just broke up.” She’d lowered her voice as if sharing information no one else should hear. Not a problem, I suspected, since we were all alone. “From what I gather, the female drummer ran off with the keyboard player, who happened to be the wife of the bass guitarist. Quite a scandal.” She arched her brows and waited, apparently wanting me to think long and hard about what she’d just said. “Anyways, they were supposed to play at the benefit tonight, so now, Jim, the banker you met when you first got here, is tryin’ to find a replacement band. Not an easy task on such short notice.”
    “Why’s the banker … ?”
    “He’s also the commander of the VFW and manages things there too.”
    Stooping over, Margie claimed two more oversized casserole dishes from where they were stowed under the prep table. “Yah, for Little Val’s weddin’ reception, Vivian decorated the ‘V’ like there was no tomorrow. The streamers and twinkle lights most people use weren’t good enough for my sister. No, sir-ree. She had to draw, cut out, and paint a bunch of life-size, plywood, Precious Moments characters and prop them all around the bar. There was a Precious Moments bride, a bunch of bridesmaids, a groom, a flower