few choice words that she would never have dreamed of uttering in the church basement. But she’d never fallen flat on her face in the church basement either.
She got painfully to her feet and was about to vent her annoyance on the offending object by kicking it out of the way, when she realized it was a foot .
A man was sprawled on his back in the snow with his head partly under one of her bushes. That damned old fool, she thought angrily, and immediately assumed the figure on her pathway was Errol Cook. Who else would be lying around drunk like that?
She leaned forward as far as she could in the d im light, just to make sure it was Errol, and then she’d call Judy to have her boys cart him away. Away anywhere, so long as it was off her pathway.
That was when she saw the ski mask and all the blood. T hat was also when Iona started to scream.
Moments later, her neighbors came running out to see what all the fuss was about. The first ones to arrive had thrown parkas or fleece lined jackets over their night clothes. Others had waited to dress properly for the winter night.
Bob Chalmers had at least had the presence of mind to call 911. He figured if anyone was screaming that hard, then it was something the police should at least be looking at.
The call had been relayed automatically through to Judy at home. She followed up by calling Carl. If h e needed Almost as well, he’d call him himself. Five minutes after receiving Judy’s call, Carl was pulling his cruiser up outside Iona’s house.
The scene had been absolute ly demolished by everyone who’d wanted to take a look. Someone had even pulled the ski mask off of the victim’s head to see who it was.
Forrest Appleyard had been identified as the victim already by everyone who’d looked. In just the few minutes since Iona had screamed, several theories as to what’d happened had been both expounded and argued.
Once again, Carl was frustrated and angry by the completely contaminated crime scene. Another idiot had even picked what could possibly be the murder weapon up out of the snow, and was proudly waving it around.
It had only taken Carl a moment to realize Forrest was dead and that they were perhaps looking at their fourth murder this week. It looked like Cooper’s Corners might be going for the record, he thought grimly. Carl sighed. It looked like it was going to be another one of those nights for him.
Someone, Judy most probably, had also called old Doc Wayland. He had lived in Cooper’s Corners for over forty years and despite his age, he responded as first call to most of the local emergencies.
Doc arrived a few minutes after Carl and after talking briefly to him, he was speaking to Iona, assessing her injuries. His on the spot diagnosis was, apart from a couple of scrapes to her hands and knees, the only other damages she’d sustained were to her dignity.
One of the neighboring ladies, Patti Stirling, had picked up Iona’s Bingo bag and had put all of her scattered good luck charms and dabbers back into it. She also put something else into it that she thought might have fallen out of Iona’s bag.
Over at the crime scene, it was obv ious to both Doc and Carl how Forrest had been killed. Someone had hit him across the base of his skull with an axe. The same one Iona kept beside her bird bath to break up the ice in it in the wintertime. The same one that had the killer’s fingerprints obliterated by the dumb bastard who’d picked it up, Carl thought angrily.
Cooper’s Corners might be out to break th e annual murder record, but it sure as hell would never win the ‘Most Intelligent Community in America’ title.
It was about five minutes later, at around 11 p.m. when Carl put in a call to Burlington. He didn’t expect to reach Roly, but he asked the dispatcher to send their crime scene team out as soon as possible. He told them it was a homicide, the victim was definitely dead and it wasn’t an emergency but he still didn’t want to be
She got painfully to her feet and was about to vent her annoyance on the offending object by kicking it out of the way, when she realized it was a foot .
A man was sprawled on his back in the snow with his head partly under one of her bushes. That damned old fool, she thought angrily, and immediately assumed the figure on her pathway was Errol Cook. Who else would be lying around drunk like that?
She leaned forward as far as she could in the d im light, just to make sure it was Errol, and then she’d call Judy to have her boys cart him away. Away anywhere, so long as it was off her pathway.
That was when she saw the ski mask and all the blood. T hat was also when Iona started to scream.
Moments later, her neighbors came running out to see what all the fuss was about. The first ones to arrive had thrown parkas or fleece lined jackets over their night clothes. Others had waited to dress properly for the winter night.
Bob Chalmers had at least had the presence of mind to call 911. He figured if anyone was screaming that hard, then it was something the police should at least be looking at.
The call had been relayed automatically through to Judy at home. She followed up by calling Carl. If h e needed Almost as well, he’d call him himself. Five minutes after receiving Judy’s call, Carl was pulling his cruiser up outside Iona’s house.
The scene had been absolute ly demolished by everyone who’d wanted to take a look. Someone had even pulled the ski mask off of the victim’s head to see who it was.
Forrest Appleyard had been identified as the victim already by everyone who’d looked. In just the few minutes since Iona had screamed, several theories as to what’d happened had been both expounded and argued.
Once again, Carl was frustrated and angry by the completely contaminated crime scene. Another idiot had even picked what could possibly be the murder weapon up out of the snow, and was proudly waving it around.
It had only taken Carl a moment to realize Forrest was dead and that they were perhaps looking at their fourth murder this week. It looked like Cooper’s Corners might be going for the record, he thought grimly. Carl sighed. It looked like it was going to be another one of those nights for him.
Someone, Judy most probably, had also called old Doc Wayland. He had lived in Cooper’s Corners for over forty years and despite his age, he responded as first call to most of the local emergencies.
Doc arrived a few minutes after Carl and after talking briefly to him, he was speaking to Iona, assessing her injuries. His on the spot diagnosis was, apart from a couple of scrapes to her hands and knees, the only other damages she’d sustained were to her dignity.
One of the neighboring ladies, Patti Stirling, had picked up Iona’s Bingo bag and had put all of her scattered good luck charms and dabbers back into it. She also put something else into it that she thought might have fallen out of Iona’s bag.
Over at the crime scene, it was obv ious to both Doc and Carl how Forrest had been killed. Someone had hit him across the base of his skull with an axe. The same one Iona kept beside her bird bath to break up the ice in it in the wintertime. The same one that had the killer’s fingerprints obliterated by the dumb bastard who’d picked it up, Carl thought angrily.
Cooper’s Corners might be out to break th e annual murder record, but it sure as hell would never win the ‘Most Intelligent Community in America’ title.
It was about five minutes later, at around 11 p.m. when Carl put in a call to Burlington. He didn’t expect to reach Roly, but he asked the dispatcher to send their crime scene team out as soon as possible. He told them it was a homicide, the victim was definitely dead and it wasn’t an emergency but he still didn’t want to be
Similar Books
