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Authors: Connie Archer
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unable
to reach help, she didn’t want to wait until a message reached Nate. Who knew how
long it would take for Nate to get there? Jack might just have overreacted at the
sight of blood. Harry might need an ambulance, in which case she could call Elias
at the Clinic and he could arrange one.
Sophie hurried to catch up with Jack. Lucky watched them until they crossed the street
and turned the corner on Broadway. She left Hank and Barry, still waiting to speak
to Nate, by the park bench and hurried across the Green, turning down Spruce Street.
She ran the three blocks to the end and came to a quick halt on the sidewalk in front
of the Auto Shop. The bay doors were closed. They were never closed except on Sundays.
When Harry was there, they were always open. She tried the side door. Locked. Could
Harry be inside? Unconscious? She banged on the door. Perhaps if he were hurt, he
could call out. She waited a moment, her ear pressed against the wooden door, but
heard nothing. In frustration, she ran down the alleyway at the side of the old brick
building, which had once housed a bakery. At the rear, a window at street level was
wide open. She peered into the interior, but the brightness of the sun and the dimness
inside made it impossible to see anything. Had Jack climbed through this window with
the same thought?
She clambered over the windowsill and jumped a foot to the concrete floor. She called
out again. No answer. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the high,
dusty windows. She could just see her way across the garage without tripping on any
of the hoses lying about on the floor. The large, empty space was completely still.
She moved toward the front of the shop and pushed open the door of the office where
Harry worked. A terrible odor assailed her nostrils. Her foot touched something soft.
She looked down and gasped. Harry lay on his side, his eyes staring sightlessly at
the legs of a chair. Part of his skull was caved in and a pool of now-congealed blood
surrounded his head.
Lucky covered her mouth, trying not to scream, but a low gurgle came from her throat.
Jack was right. Harry was gone. She felt blood rushing through her ears. The room
was spinning around. She heard a shout. It was Nate. She backed out of the office
leaving the door ajar and managed to call to him.
“In here, Nate. I climbed through the window.”
She heard Nate mutter as he scrambled over the windowsill, his heavy shoes hitting
the concrete floor. “In the office.” Her voice trembled.
Nate moved past her and gently pushed the door of the office open. He stared for a
long moment at the body of Harry Hodges. He backed across the threshold and gave her
a studied look. “Jack just found him?”
Lucky nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak. “He came over to pick up his
car. He couldn’t talk at first. He said Harry was gone. I ran over in case he was
just hurt and needed help.”
“You should have called me first.”
“I would have but I didn’t have my phone. Barry promised to find you.”
“Well, that’s it, then. Just what Snowflake didn’t need—another murder.”
“Can you be sure? Could he have been hurt under the lift?”
“He could have, but I doubt he could have walked into the office with that head wound.
I’m no expert, but I really don’t think so. Looks like somebody bashed his head in
right here. But you listen to me, young lady. I don’t want you involved—not like before.
I want you as far away from this as possible. You hear me?”
Lucky gulped. “Fine with me. You’re in charge.”
“Glad you agree,” Nate replied sarcastically. “Now, can I take you home or back to
the restaurant? There’s nothing we can do for Harry now.”
“No. I’ll be okay. I just want to get to the Spoonful to see how Jack’s doing. Sophie
walked back with him. I only meant to go to Pastor Wilson’s ceremony and then get
to reach help, she didn’t want to wait until a message reached Nate. Who knew how
long it would take for Nate to get there? Jack might just have overreacted at the
sight of blood. Harry might need an ambulance, in which case she could call Elias
at the Clinic and he could arrange one.
Sophie hurried to catch up with Jack. Lucky watched them until they crossed the street
and turned the corner on Broadway. She left Hank and Barry, still waiting to speak
to Nate, by the park bench and hurried across the Green, turning down Spruce Street.
She ran the three blocks to the end and came to a quick halt on the sidewalk in front
of the Auto Shop. The bay doors were closed. They were never closed except on Sundays.
When Harry was there, they were always open. She tried the side door. Locked. Could
Harry be inside? Unconscious? She banged on the door. Perhaps if he were hurt, he
could call out. She waited a moment, her ear pressed against the wooden door, but
heard nothing. In frustration, she ran down the alleyway at the side of the old brick
building, which had once housed a bakery. At the rear, a window at street level was
wide open. She peered into the interior, but the brightness of the sun and the dimness
inside made it impossible to see anything. Had Jack climbed through this window with
the same thought?
She clambered over the windowsill and jumped a foot to the concrete floor. She called
out again. No answer. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the high,
dusty windows. She could just see her way across the garage without tripping on any
of the hoses lying about on the floor. The large, empty space was completely still.
She moved toward the front of the shop and pushed open the door of the office where
Harry worked. A terrible odor assailed her nostrils. Her foot touched something soft.
She looked down and gasped. Harry lay on his side, his eyes staring sightlessly at
the legs of a chair. Part of his skull was caved in and a pool of now-congealed blood
surrounded his head.
Lucky covered her mouth, trying not to scream, but a low gurgle came from her throat.
Jack was right. Harry was gone. She felt blood rushing through her ears. The room
was spinning around. She heard a shout. It was Nate. She backed out of the office
leaving the door ajar and managed to call to him.
“In here, Nate. I climbed through the window.”
She heard Nate mutter as he scrambled over the windowsill, his heavy shoes hitting
the concrete floor. “In the office.” Her voice trembled.
Nate moved past her and gently pushed the door of the office open. He stared for a
long moment at the body of Harry Hodges. He backed across the threshold and gave her
a studied look. “Jack just found him?”
Lucky nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak. “He came over to pick up his
car. He couldn’t talk at first. He said Harry was gone. I ran over in case he was
just hurt and needed help.”
“You should have called me first.”
“I would have but I didn’t have my phone. Barry promised to find you.”
“Well, that’s it, then. Just what Snowflake didn’t need—another murder.”
“Can you be sure? Could he have been hurt under the lift?”
“He could have, but I doubt he could have walked into the office with that head wound.
I’m no expert, but I really don’t think so. Looks like somebody bashed his head in
right here. But you listen to me, young lady. I don’t want you involved—not like before.
I want you as far away from this as possible. You hear me?”
Lucky gulped. “Fine with me. You’re in charge.”
“Glad you agree,” Nate replied sarcastically. “Now, can I take you home or back to
the restaurant? There’s nothing we can do for Harry now.”
“No. I’ll be okay. I just want to get to the Spoonful to see how Jack’s doing. Sophie
walked back with him. I only meant to go to Pastor Wilson’s ceremony and then get
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