people go off with nothing, not even proof that they exist. An eighth-grade education leaves you so unprepared to survive out there.”
“But you made it.”
“I did,” she answered. But clearly not everyone does.
Chapter 7
“I better get going,” Evan said from behind the wheel of his police cruiser.
“Right.” She reached for the door handle.
“You come on your golf cart?” he asked.
He always seemed amused by her campaign to persuade the locals to use electric golf carts instead of cars on their errands around town. The carts were environmentally smart: they used less energy, put out no gas fumes, and were quiet. Best of all, they traveled at about the same speed as an Amish buggy and didn’t spook the horses. In her opinion, using golf carts when possible added to the small-town ambiance of Stone Mill.
“It’s not that hot yet. I walked.”
“You want a ride home?”
“No, thanks. I can use the exercise.” They agreed to have supper together Thursday evening, and Evan drove away.
Heading for home, Rachel started down the sidewalk. She waved to one of Hulda’s grandsons, Saul, who was walking into the bank next to the bookstore. Rachel wondered if he was making the previous day’s deposit, which she knew was a no-no in Hulda’s book. He waved back and hurried inside, the telltale fabric bag under his arm. Deposits from Russell’s Hardware and Emporium were always dropped off in the night box after closing, never held overnight in the store safe. Hulda wouldn’t be pleased that Saul hadn’t followed her instructions yet again, and she would find out. For a woman in her nineties, she was difficult to get anything past, and she controlled her family business with an iron hand.
Rachel yawned. She hadn’t slept well. In fact, she’d hardly slept at all since she’d discovered Beth’s body. This morning, instead of getting right up, she’d laid in bed for a while, thinking about Beth and the possible scenarios that could have brought the poor girl to the quarry.
Eventually, Rachel had risen and gotten on with her day. When she’d checked her email, she’d been pleased to see that more people wanted to come to Stone Mill House the following weekend than she had room for. She was glad for the business, but now, she couldn’t help wondering if the national coverage of Beth’s murder had something to do with the sudden popularity of Stone Mill and her B&B. She hoped not, but a woman who had called that morning to make reservations had specifically inquired if the B&B was located in the same town where the Aim -ish girl had been found dead. It seemed ghoulish that visitors would want to come because of Beth’s murder. Maybe the woman had been asking simply to make conversation while Rachel waited for her reservation calendar to load. Rachel couldn’t fall into the trap of trying to read her guests’ minds and attributing the worst to them. It might simply be the end of summer and more travelers wanting to squeeze in a last vacation.
Ada had showed up promptly at her normal hour, but when Rachel had left Stone Mill House, the girls who usually came in to help with housekeeping hadn’t yet arrived. When Rachel had asked Ada why they hadn’t come to work, she’d shrugged and mumbled something suggesting that she didn’t intend to discuss it.
If Ada’s helpers still hadn’t arrived by the time Rachel got home, Rachel knew that she’d have to fill in. Besides the vacuuming and dusting of the rooms that weekend guests had checked out of, there were linens to wash and woodwork to polish. Stone Mill House required a lot of elbow grease to keep it shining. Cobwebs and dusty furniture wouldn’t do for guests, not if she wanted the B&B to be a success. Plus, Ada had been complaining that the dryer wasn’t drying properly, so that needed to be looked at. Any repairs Rachel could do herself, rather than calling a repairman, was money in her pocket that she didn’t have to waste.
“Please
“But you made it.”
“I did,” she answered. But clearly not everyone does.
Chapter 7
“I better get going,” Evan said from behind the wheel of his police cruiser.
“Right.” She reached for the door handle.
“You come on your golf cart?” he asked.
He always seemed amused by her campaign to persuade the locals to use electric golf carts instead of cars on their errands around town. The carts were environmentally smart: they used less energy, put out no gas fumes, and were quiet. Best of all, they traveled at about the same speed as an Amish buggy and didn’t spook the horses. In her opinion, using golf carts when possible added to the small-town ambiance of Stone Mill.
“It’s not that hot yet. I walked.”
“You want a ride home?”
“No, thanks. I can use the exercise.” They agreed to have supper together Thursday evening, and Evan drove away.
Heading for home, Rachel started down the sidewalk. She waved to one of Hulda’s grandsons, Saul, who was walking into the bank next to the bookstore. Rachel wondered if he was making the previous day’s deposit, which she knew was a no-no in Hulda’s book. He waved back and hurried inside, the telltale fabric bag under his arm. Deposits from Russell’s Hardware and Emporium were always dropped off in the night box after closing, never held overnight in the store safe. Hulda wouldn’t be pleased that Saul hadn’t followed her instructions yet again, and she would find out. For a woman in her nineties, she was difficult to get anything past, and she controlled her family business with an iron hand.
Rachel yawned. She hadn’t slept well. In fact, she’d hardly slept at all since she’d discovered Beth’s body. This morning, instead of getting right up, she’d laid in bed for a while, thinking about Beth and the possible scenarios that could have brought the poor girl to the quarry.
Eventually, Rachel had risen and gotten on with her day. When she’d checked her email, she’d been pleased to see that more people wanted to come to Stone Mill House the following weekend than she had room for. She was glad for the business, but now, she couldn’t help wondering if the national coverage of Beth’s murder had something to do with the sudden popularity of Stone Mill and her B&B. She hoped not, but a woman who had called that morning to make reservations had specifically inquired if the B&B was located in the same town where the Aim -ish girl had been found dead. It seemed ghoulish that visitors would want to come because of Beth’s murder. Maybe the woman had been asking simply to make conversation while Rachel waited for her reservation calendar to load. Rachel couldn’t fall into the trap of trying to read her guests’ minds and attributing the worst to them. It might simply be the end of summer and more travelers wanting to squeeze in a last vacation.
Ada had showed up promptly at her normal hour, but when Rachel had left Stone Mill House, the girls who usually came in to help with housekeeping hadn’t yet arrived. When Rachel had asked Ada why they hadn’t come to work, she’d shrugged and mumbled something suggesting that she didn’t intend to discuss it.
If Ada’s helpers still hadn’t arrived by the time Rachel got home, Rachel knew that she’d have to fill in. Besides the vacuuming and dusting of the rooms that weekend guests had checked out of, there were linens to wash and woodwork to polish. Stone Mill House required a lot of elbow grease to keep it shining. Cobwebs and dusty furniture wouldn’t do for guests, not if she wanted the B&B to be a success. Plus, Ada had been complaining that the dryer wasn’t drying properly, so that needed to be looked at. Any repairs Rachel could do herself, rather than calling a repairman, was money in her pocket that she didn’t have to waste.
“Please
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