I left the office and headed
home. Sunlight glared off the banks of snow lining the walks. Bits of old ice
formed ragged patches on the concrete.
“Watch your step, Mrs. M.” Pete
Duggan, my neighbor and a local police officer, fell into step beside me. His
down jacket nearly matched his dark red hair. “Last time you had an accident,
you got involved in a murder.”
“Then I’m glad you’re here. Once
was enough.”
His hazel eyes twinkled. “What
happened to the knife?”
“What knife? I don’t
remember.”
“Right.” The knife he
referred to, the one used to kill my tenant, lay on the bottom of the
We reached the corner. “I’m
crossing here. I have to see Beth Logan about church business.”
“Beth Logan?”
I laughed. “Don’t tell me
there’s an available woman in town you don’t know. She’s a widow. She and her
six year old son live in the old Perkin’s house. Sings in the choir and is a
nurse at the hospital.”
“Haven’t had the honor.” He
grinned. “Church business—missing robes—vanished communion wine?”
“Nothing criminal.” I
studied him and wondered when he’d settle down.
“So what are you up to?” he
asked.
“Acting as temporary choir
director and heading the search committee for a new organist.”
“Good for you. Should keep
you out of mischief.”
“I’m crushed.”
He laughed. “I don’t believe
you. Let me walk you to her house. Maybe you’ll introduce me.”
“Beth is not to be trifled
with.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You
wound me. When I’m involved with a woman, I’m serious.”
“For a limited engagement.”
“Someday I’ll surprise you.”
He held my arm and steered me across the street.
A child’s laughter rang
clear. “Bigger. Let’s make it bigger.”
“Then how will we get the
head on the body?” Beth asked.
“Maybe I can help,” Pete
said.
Beth whirled. Her eyes
narrowed. Then she saw me and her expression relaxed.
Robby eyed Pete. The boy’s
blond hair stuck out around the edges of his blue knit hat.
“Beth, this is Pete Duggan,
a friend of mine. He decided to help an old lady across the street and found me
instead. You’re home early.”
“It’s a comp day. I have to
work this weekend.”
“Then I’m glad we don’t
begin our visits until next week. Just left Edward. He wants us to finish the
search yesterday.”
While Beth and I talked,
Pete lifted the snowman’s head and placed it on the body. “Why don’t you wait
in the house?” she asked. “The snowman is my project. Your friend seems to have
taken over.”
“He has a habit of doing
that. Let me help, too.”
When the snowman had button
eyes, a radish nose and a bright green scarf instead of Beth’s favorite blue
one that her son had tried to liberate, she invited us in for hot chocolate and
cookies. The sight of a box of store-bought cookies made me wince.
“Pete, here’s my key. There’s
a tin of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies on top of the refrigerator.”
He caught the key ring. He
looked at Robby. “Want to come with me? I think they want time for women talk.”
He winked.
My Places
https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f
http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com
https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/
Buy Mark
http://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/
No comments:
Post a Comment