porch.
“Hey, Trish. What did he say?”
“You were right. He thought I was trying to help you,” she said. “I used to think you were paranoid thinking the chief was out to get you. I’m not so sure anymore.”
I wished I could tell her that I was surprised by his reaction, but I couldn’t. “You tried, and that’s what counts. Thanks for believing in me.”
“Suzanne, we’ve been friends forever. I’ll always look out for you, you should know that.”
“I do,” I said, then hung up.
If Chief Martin wasn’t going to talk to Burt, thatmeant that I had to do it myself. The hardware store was already closed, though, and I couldn’t just show up on his doorstep without a really good reason. It would have to wait until tomorrow.
I planned to go to his store to find out what was really going on.
After the delicious meal, I’d just finished doing the dishes when my cell phone rang again. Momma was on the couch working her way through our complete set of Agatha Christies yet again. I put the last dish in the drying rack, then answered the call.
“Suzanne Hart, I’m going to shoot you,” I heard Grace say.
“Is there a particular reason this time, or is it just out of sheer meanness?”
“You didn’t call me after what happened to Peg Masterson. I had to hear it from Emma.”
“Why on earth did she call you?”
“Don’t take it out on her. She’s worried about you. Don’t worry. I’m coming home in the morning.”
“You shouldn’t cancel your trip because of me,” I said.
“Nonsense. We had our meeting this morning, and I spent the rest of the day shopping at Barefoot Landing. There’s nothing going on tomorrow, except for a golf outing at Myrtle National. Honestly, I was planning on coming home early anyway. I’ll see you around lunchtime,” she said.
“That would be wonderful,” I admitted. It would be good having Grace nearby. She was more than just a dear friend. She was a rock I could lean on if I needed to, and a partner in my earlier unofficial investigation.While she wasn’t all that interested in coming up with lists of suspects and motives, Grace was a whiz at play-acting, and there wasn’t a role she wouldn’t tackle to help me find the truth.
“See you then,” Grace said, and hung up.
I thought Momma had missed the telephone call altogether, but she looked up from our copy of
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd
, putting her finger on the page to mark her place, and asked, “Who was that?”
“Grace just found out what happened today,” I said.
“I thought she was out of town,” Momma said.
“She was. I mean, she is. But she’s coming home tomorrow.”
I got that look from her again. “Suzanne, you’re not going to drag her into this, are you?”
“Momma, I don’t drag anyone anywhere they don’t want to be. She’s my friend, and she wants to be here to support me.”
“She’s a good girl,” Momma said, then went back to her book.
I slipped off to my bedroom upstairs. Tomorrow was another big day of making donuts. Some folks in town gave me grief for being open on Sundays, but it was my biggest day of the week, what with Sunday schools and other folks indulging in a little weekend decadence. I’d made a conscious choice to stay open seven days a week, and I found most of my regular customers appreciated the convenience.
As I got ready for bed, I kept staring at my telephone, not even aware at first that I’d been doing it. Was I actually expecting Jake to call? He’d made it pretty clear that he was busy at the moment, and ifhe was thinking of me at all while he was back in April Springs, it was probably as a murder suspect.
To keep myself occupied until bedtime, I decided to follow my mother’s lead and read a good book. For the rest of the evening, I was going to spend a little time with one of Carolyn Hart’s books. The adventures of Annie Darling were just what I needed to take my mind off my own troubles.
I had finally dozed off when my
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