spending her honeymoon locked in a world of just herself and her husband. This was turning into a real Busman’s Honeymoon . Lucky she was enough of a Dorothy L. Sayers fan to appreciate at least that much of the situation.
“A veritable plethora of choices.” Richard held out several Chamber of Commerce brochures. “Take your pick—hot air balloon rides, jet boat river trips, skiing—oops, sorry, wrong season—llama hikes. . .”
“Llama hikes?”
“That’s what the lady wrote.” He showed her a picture of a gentle-looking, long-necked llama with a young woman in a bright red jacket and an even brighter smile standing beside it.
“‘Guided llama walks with lunch provided in a high mountain setting above Ashland,’” he read.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Sounds interesting, but I don’t think so. Anything less exotic on offer?”
“Well, how about a nice drive? Applegate Valley Loop, 100 miles; Mount Ashland, 48 miles; Upper Rogue River/Crater and Diamond lakes, 120 miles. . .”
“Something closer to home.”
“Ah, how’s this? ‘Explore Historic Jacksonville.’” He held out a brochure with a many-gabled, much-gingerbreaded Victorian house on the front.
“Sold. Let’s go.” Elizabeth pulled a pair of khaki slacks and a blue silk shirt out of the closet.
All the way to her sister’s apartment Elizabeth worried that Tori might be offended by their mother-henning her. She tried to word their invitation in an off-handed manner so as not to sound like a desperate attempt at a rescue mission. But Victoria accepted with such alacrity and openness Elizabeth could see that she needn’t have worried. When Tori ran off to get a sweatshirt in case her pink shorts and white t-shirt were too cool for the changeable weather, Richard extended the invitation to Erin as well.
“Love to,” she responded. “But it’s Enemy of The People this afternoon. I’m doing Sally’s bit as an extra. Ironic, isn’t it? I’m just a townsperson, but ‘there are no small roles, only small actors,’ as my favorite high school drama teacher Elva Reid reminded us almost daily.” She twirled a strand of blond hair falling over her shoulder.
Elizabeth was amazed at how innocent and untroubled Erin looked—one would think her completely untouched by the threats and mysteries that whirled around her. Elizabeth hated to shatter Erin’s peace with an unhappy suggestion, but felt she must. “Erin, are you sure it’s all right to leave you alone?”
“I’ll be fine. Dirk’s coming over pretty soon, anyway. I think we’ll walk down to the deli for lunch. I love those seats out back by the creek.”
Elizabeth knew the spot. Picturesque, yes. But the picnic tables next to the steep rocky bank rolling down to the tumbling creek below. . . with Dirk. “Erin—” She groped for the right words.
Richard supplied them for her. “Fine. Tell Dirk I said he was to take especially good care of you.” Richard’s tone was light, but his eyes bore a no-nonsense intensity.
“I will.” Erin gave a jerk of a nod.
Elizabeth wanted to add something like, and stay in public places, but just then Victoria returned with a pink shirt over her shoulders and her luxurious black hair, loosened from its usual braid, falling almost to her waist. There was a knock at the door just as Richard was about to open it for them to go out.
“Oh, good. Here’s Dirk now,” Erin said.
But instead it was Gregg. The last thing Elizabeth wanted was to include a suspect on their outing, but there was nothing she could do when Tori cried, “Oh, what good timing! Come to Jacksonville with us, Gregg. You don’t have a matinee today, do you?”
No, he didn’t, so it was settled.
They drove a few miles up the highway, then turned west along an old stage road. The town of Jacksonville looked as if it had changed little since the days when it was regularly visited by the stagecoach. The shiny brochure told them it had developed overnight
“A veritable plethora of choices.” Richard held out several Chamber of Commerce brochures. “Take your pick—hot air balloon rides, jet boat river trips, skiing—oops, sorry, wrong season—llama hikes. . .”
“Llama hikes?”
“That’s what the lady wrote.” He showed her a picture of a gentle-looking, long-necked llama with a young woman in a bright red jacket and an even brighter smile standing beside it.
“‘Guided llama walks with lunch provided in a high mountain setting above Ashland,’” he read.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Sounds interesting, but I don’t think so. Anything less exotic on offer?”
“Well, how about a nice drive? Applegate Valley Loop, 100 miles; Mount Ashland, 48 miles; Upper Rogue River/Crater and Diamond lakes, 120 miles. . .”
“Something closer to home.”
“Ah, how’s this? ‘Explore Historic Jacksonville.’” He held out a brochure with a many-gabled, much-gingerbreaded Victorian house on the front.
“Sold. Let’s go.” Elizabeth pulled a pair of khaki slacks and a blue silk shirt out of the closet.
All the way to her sister’s apartment Elizabeth worried that Tori might be offended by their mother-henning her. She tried to word their invitation in an off-handed manner so as not to sound like a desperate attempt at a rescue mission. But Victoria accepted with such alacrity and openness Elizabeth could see that she needn’t have worried. When Tori ran off to get a sweatshirt in case her pink shorts and white t-shirt were too cool for the changeable weather, Richard extended the invitation to Erin as well.
“Love to,” she responded. “But it’s Enemy of The People this afternoon. I’m doing Sally’s bit as an extra. Ironic, isn’t it? I’m just a townsperson, but ‘there are no small roles, only small actors,’ as my favorite high school drama teacher Elva Reid reminded us almost daily.” She twirled a strand of blond hair falling over her shoulder.
Elizabeth was amazed at how innocent and untroubled Erin looked—one would think her completely untouched by the threats and mysteries that whirled around her. Elizabeth hated to shatter Erin’s peace with an unhappy suggestion, but felt she must. “Erin, are you sure it’s all right to leave you alone?”
“I’ll be fine. Dirk’s coming over pretty soon, anyway. I think we’ll walk down to the deli for lunch. I love those seats out back by the creek.”
Elizabeth knew the spot. Picturesque, yes. But the picnic tables next to the steep rocky bank rolling down to the tumbling creek below. . . with Dirk. “Erin—” She groped for the right words.
Richard supplied them for her. “Fine. Tell Dirk I said he was to take especially good care of you.” Richard’s tone was light, but his eyes bore a no-nonsense intensity.
“I will.” Erin gave a jerk of a nod.
Elizabeth wanted to add something like, and stay in public places, but just then Victoria returned with a pink shirt over her shoulders and her luxurious black hair, loosened from its usual braid, falling almost to her waist. There was a knock at the door just as Richard was about to open it for them to go out.
“Oh, good. Here’s Dirk now,” Erin said.
But instead it was Gregg. The last thing Elizabeth wanted was to include a suspect on their outing, but there was nothing she could do when Tori cried, “Oh, what good timing! Come to Jacksonville with us, Gregg. You don’t have a matinee today, do you?”
No, he didn’t, so it was settled.
They drove a few miles up the highway, then turned west along an old stage road. The town of Jacksonville looked as if it had changed little since the days when it was regularly visited by the stagecoach. The shiny brochure told them it had developed overnight
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