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"What do you have there?" she asked Mary Beth. "Smells
heavenly."
Mary Beth felt the twinges of guilt coursing though her veins as Mrs. O'Reilly stood there smiling at her. Poor
Mrs. O'Reilly, she thought. But now what was she to do? How could she explain the need to toss away a pot of food
all the way outside and not in her own kitchen? That was an odd thing to do, Mary Beth imagined. But before she
could think of a suitable explanation, Mrs. O'Reilly added, "Did you cook that for me? You certainly didn't
have to go through all that trouble, dear. But it sure is sweet of you."
Mary Beth just stood there in shock and nodded. "Um, yeah, for you," she managed to say in utter horror.
"Well, you're too kind. And I accept. Bring it on into the house, dear. I was just about to start lunch, so
your timing is perfect."
Mary Beth was thinking just the opposite, but followed Mrs. O'Reilly through her house and into her kitchen. She
winced each time she past one of Pete's toys scattered about. "No more play time for Pete," she mumbled
to herself.
"What's that dear?" Mrs. O'Reilly asked, as she took the pot and set it down on the stove.
"Oh, um, I asked where that playful Pete was."
"Pete? Don't know, dear. Guess he's sleeping somewhere."
Closer than you know, Mary Beth thought to herself. But said instead, "Okay then, well, enjoy your lunch."
And then turned to go back to her own home.
"Nonsense, dear. You went through all this trouble. It would be an insult on my part if I didn't insist that
you sit down and share this wonderful meal with me." Again, Mrs. O'Reilly lit up with a smile and crossed
her arms over her ample bosom. Mary Beth felt the beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she nodded a yes and
sat down at the kitchen table.
"Sure," Mary Beth said. "Of course."
Mrs. O'Reilly gave a motherly chuckle and set the table. Then she asked, "And what are we having today?"
"Secret family recipe. If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
Mrs. O'Reilly stared at Mary Beth and then broke out in a howl of laughter. "Oh dear, that would be a shame.
Okay then, your secret is safe."
Mary Beth hoped as much. One murder a day was plenty. Still, she thought, if need be…
But before she could finish the notion, Mrs. O'Reilly set two bowls of steaming hot soup down on the table. "Looks
divine," she said, before sitting down to join Mary Beth, who was thinking that it looked more like hell;
which was where she pictured little Pete now romping and snorting to his evil little heart's content.
Mary Beth watched as Mrs. O'Reilly spooned a hearty mouthful down her gullet. "Mmm, tastes like chicken,"
she practically purred.
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