going on in Sweet Cove.”
Angie’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. “It’s from Josh.” She read the message. “Josh says that Andrew Flynn requested the evening off the night that Finch was killed.”
“Well, well,” Ellie said. Her eyes narrowed.
Courtney picked up the pen and placed a star next to Andrew Flynn’s name on her list of suspects. “Someone just went to the top of the list.”
Chapter 16
When Angie and Courtney knocked on the Walsh sisters’ door, no one answered. As they turned away and started down the walkway, they heard yelling in the backyard of the house. They hurried to see if someone needed help. When they reached the rear of the home, Mildred Walsh stood beside a covered back porch swatting at hornets buzzing about her. Her sister Agnes had a broom in her hands and looked to have just knocked a hornet’s nest from the roof of the porch. Angie and Courtney rushed to Mildred’s aid, but by then the aggressive insects had fled.
“Did they bite you?’ Courtney asked.
“A few bites, but I’m not allergic. Awful little creatures.” Mildred’s voice was hoarse and raspy from years of smoking. She rubbed at the red welts rising on the skin of her arm. She glanced at her sister who was hurrying over to her. “Next time, I’ll use the broom on them. Little devils.”
Agnes’s worried expression changed to one of relief. “Goodness. I guess that wasn’t the best way to get rid of hornets.” Agnes was dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. From behind, she could pass for a teenager. She blinked at Angie and Courtney. “What brings you girls to the rescue?”
“We knocked at the front door and heard yelling back here,” Courtney said.
Angie asked, “We wanted to chat with you both. Do you want to go inside, Mildred, and put something on those bites?”
“Bah. No need. The welts will go down eventually. Come sit on the porch.” She led the way to the wicker seats and table on the covered back porch. They sat down.
“Can we get you something to drink?” Agnes asked the girls.
“Nothing, thanks.” Angie shook her head. “We don’t want to take too much of your time.”
“What’s on your minds?” Mildred rubbed at her arm.
“We’ve been talking about Mr. Finch’s murder,” Courtney told them. “We’ve been thinking about who might have killed him. We wondered if either of you had seen something suspicious or heard an argument or anything like that.”
“Finch.” Mildred practically spit the word out of her mouth. “That nasty old goat. Got what was coming to him, I say.”
“Mildred.” Agnes chastised her sister. “That isn’t charitable.”
“Did Finch deserve better then he got?” Mildred asked.
Agnes didn’t answer.
Courtney asked, “How did Finch treat you?”
“Like we were old hags who could barely do anything right.” Mildred scowled.
“Why did you keep working there?” Angie asked.
Agnes said, “We like to keep active, get out and meet people. We could work together at the candy store, not many places allow that. Together we felt like we could deal with Mr. Finch. Neither of us would put up with him if we were working there alone.”
Mildred added, “Finch basically left us alone after we were trained. He’d hide in the back room making the products. We liked interacting with the customers.”
“Finch thought we were stupid old ladies,” Agnes confided. “We played the part. We let him think that’s what we were.” She chuckled.
“You talk to a lot of people in town,” Angie said. “Is there any gossip about who might have killed Finch?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Agnes fiddled with the ring on her finger. “People talk, sure, but no one knows anything.”
“Oh, just tell them, Agnes,” Mildred said. “They’re nice girls.”
Angie and Courtney exchanged a quick glance. Neither said anything waiting to see if Agnes would speak.
“Well.” Agnes lowered her voice. “Our friend works at the dry
Angie’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. “It’s from Josh.” She read the message. “Josh says that Andrew Flynn requested the evening off the night that Finch was killed.”
“Well, well,” Ellie said. Her eyes narrowed.
Courtney picked up the pen and placed a star next to Andrew Flynn’s name on her list of suspects. “Someone just went to the top of the list.”
Chapter 16
When Angie and Courtney knocked on the Walsh sisters’ door, no one answered. As they turned away and started down the walkway, they heard yelling in the backyard of the house. They hurried to see if someone needed help. When they reached the rear of the home, Mildred Walsh stood beside a covered back porch swatting at hornets buzzing about her. Her sister Agnes had a broom in her hands and looked to have just knocked a hornet’s nest from the roof of the porch. Angie and Courtney rushed to Mildred’s aid, but by then the aggressive insects had fled.
“Did they bite you?’ Courtney asked.
“A few bites, but I’m not allergic. Awful little creatures.” Mildred’s voice was hoarse and raspy from years of smoking. She rubbed at the red welts rising on the skin of her arm. She glanced at her sister who was hurrying over to her. “Next time, I’ll use the broom on them. Little devils.”
Agnes’s worried expression changed to one of relief. “Goodness. I guess that wasn’t the best way to get rid of hornets.” Agnes was dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. From behind, she could pass for a teenager. She blinked at Angie and Courtney. “What brings you girls to the rescue?”
“We knocked at the front door and heard yelling back here,” Courtney said.
Angie asked, “We wanted to chat with you both. Do you want to go inside, Mildred, and put something on those bites?”
“Bah. No need. The welts will go down eventually. Come sit on the porch.” She led the way to the wicker seats and table on the covered back porch. They sat down.
“Can we get you something to drink?” Agnes asked the girls.
“Nothing, thanks.” Angie shook her head. “We don’t want to take too much of your time.”
“What’s on your minds?” Mildred rubbed at her arm.
“We’ve been talking about Mr. Finch’s murder,” Courtney told them. “We’ve been thinking about who might have killed him. We wondered if either of you had seen something suspicious or heard an argument or anything like that.”
“Finch.” Mildred practically spit the word out of her mouth. “That nasty old goat. Got what was coming to him, I say.”
“Mildred.” Agnes chastised her sister. “That isn’t charitable.”
“Did Finch deserve better then he got?” Mildred asked.
Agnes didn’t answer.
Courtney asked, “How did Finch treat you?”
“Like we were old hags who could barely do anything right.” Mildred scowled.
“Why did you keep working there?” Angie asked.
Agnes said, “We like to keep active, get out and meet people. We could work together at the candy store, not many places allow that. Together we felt like we could deal with Mr. Finch. Neither of us would put up with him if we were working there alone.”
Mildred added, “Finch basically left us alone after we were trained. He’d hide in the back room making the products. We liked interacting with the customers.”
“Finch thought we were stupid old ladies,” Agnes confided. “We played the part. We let him think that’s what we were.” She chuckled.
“You talk to a lot of people in town,” Angie said. “Is there any gossip about who might have killed Finch?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Agnes fiddled with the ring on her finger. “People talk, sure, but no one knows anything.”
“Oh, just tell them, Agnes,” Mildred said. “They’re nice girls.”
Angie and Courtney exchanged a quick glance. Neither said anything waiting to see if Agnes would speak.
“Well.” Agnes lowered her voice. “Our friend works at the dry
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