Read Online A Touch of the Grape: A Hemlock Falls Mystery (Hemlock Falls Mystery series) by Claudia Bishop - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Claudia Bishop
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placed in the center of the table. "And them strawberries … delicious."
"You're welcome," Meg said.
Doreen sniffed. "But it ain't liverwurst, you toot. That there is liver pâté."
"Patties or spoonfuls, my stomach thanks you just the same."
"You can have a fourth and fifth serving if you want," Quill said warmly. "You saved the Inn! I can never thank you enough."
"No, I didn't. I mean, the boys and me, yeah, we did a good job. But that fire was set in that room and it kept itself to that room. Didn't even get the wiring or nothing. Amazing."
"And thank you for letting us keep the Inn open." Meg took two slices of sourdough bread from the basket in the center of the table and set them on Denny's plate with a smile. Quill kicked her in exasperation. "I—ow! What'd you do that for?!"
Denny set his fork down with a stem expression, a man on a mission. "No, don't you thank me for that, Meg. You thank that interfering lawyer Howie Murchi son. I told him and I'm a-telling you …"
"That's why!" Quill hissed.
"… s'not right to keep the premises open when the origin of a suspicious fire has not yet been determined."
"That's why I kicked you," Quill said.
"And it's going to take a whiles to determine what happened, too. You heard from Sher'f McHale yet. Quill?"
"I called him about the fire this morning, Denny. And he's not sheriff anymore, you know."
"I don't know that you could call Davy Kiddermeister a sheriff," Denny grunted. "Just a kid. Don't seem to know his ass from a hole in the ground, if you'll excuse the language, ladies. Thing is, Myles is good at this sort of stuff. I mean, it's the kind of thing he gets paid for now, right? Investigations. I was just wondering when he was headed back this way. Sher'f McHale, he wouldn't have let no lawyer bamboozle him into keeping the scene of a suspicious incident open. Nossir. He would have kep' this place closed up right and tight. Like it should be."
Quill looked around the dining room. It was late, after three, but the lunch crowd had been substantial, and they had had to turn people away even after the third sitting. The remnants of the crowd, including the four remaining Crafty Ladies, were still eating. She'd had to call in all the help they'd laid off the month before, and more. None of her employees had turned down the opportunity to be included, however peripherally, at the scene of the tragedy. Quill doubted that their willing responses were due to the effectiveness of her Termination techniques. Quill's own reaction to disaster had always been to re treat to a discreet distance until the fuss was over; every one else's seemed to be to crowd in and watch. Human beings—and their curiosity—never failed to amaze her.
"Myles offered to come home, of course," Quill said. "But I told him I don't think it's really necessary."
"You let me talk to him next time he calls," Denny said. "I'll let him know how necessary it is. We got ourselves a murderer here, plain and simple. That fire was set, sure as I'm the volunteer fire chief of the Hem lock Falls Volunteer Fire Department, and that poor lady murdered in her bed."
"Why didn't she just get up and get out?" Quill asked. "That's what's been bothering me. Was she that heavy a sleeper?"
"Andy said the autopsy wouldn't be finished until tomorrow." Meg ran both hands through her hair. "We won't know cause of death until then, and until we do— maybe it was just vandalism or something. Maybe the murder part was unintentional."
"Ladies, Chief." Rocky Burke approached the table, unsmiling, rumpled, his briefcase clutched in his hand. "Rocky Burke, Burke's Insurance. Mind if I sit down for a bit?"
"Siddown right here," Doreen said, pleased. She hitched her chair over to provide room for him. He sat down primly, holding his briefcase in his lap. "You got a check for us, mister?" Burke frowned. Doreen shook an admonitory finger in his face. "Now, you look and look smart—"
"Doreen," Quill said.
"—I got
"You're welcome," Meg said.
Doreen sniffed. "But it ain't liverwurst, you toot. That there is liver pâté."
"Patties or spoonfuls, my stomach thanks you just the same."
"You can have a fourth and fifth serving if you want," Quill said warmly. "You saved the Inn! I can never thank you enough."
"No, I didn't. I mean, the boys and me, yeah, we did a good job. But that fire was set in that room and it kept itself to that room. Didn't even get the wiring or nothing. Amazing."
"And thank you for letting us keep the Inn open." Meg took two slices of sourdough bread from the basket in the center of the table and set them on Denny's plate with a smile. Quill kicked her in exasperation. "I—ow! What'd you do that for?!"
Denny set his fork down with a stem expression, a man on a mission. "No, don't you thank me for that, Meg. You thank that interfering lawyer Howie Murchi son. I told him and I'm a-telling you …"
"That's why!" Quill hissed.
"… s'not right to keep the premises open when the origin of a suspicious fire has not yet been determined."
"That's why I kicked you," Quill said.
"And it's going to take a whiles to determine what happened, too. You heard from Sher'f McHale yet. Quill?"
"I called him about the fire this morning, Denny. And he's not sheriff anymore, you know."
"I don't know that you could call Davy Kiddermeister a sheriff," Denny grunted. "Just a kid. Don't seem to know his ass from a hole in the ground, if you'll excuse the language, ladies. Thing is, Myles is good at this sort of stuff. I mean, it's the kind of thing he gets paid for now, right? Investigations. I was just wondering when he was headed back this way. Sher'f McHale, he wouldn't have let no lawyer bamboozle him into keeping the scene of a suspicious incident open. Nossir. He would have kep' this place closed up right and tight. Like it should be."
Quill looked around the dining room. It was late, after three, but the lunch crowd had been substantial, and they had had to turn people away even after the third sitting. The remnants of the crowd, including the four remaining Crafty Ladies, were still eating. She'd had to call in all the help they'd laid off the month before, and more. None of her employees had turned down the opportunity to be included, however peripherally, at the scene of the tragedy. Quill doubted that their willing responses were due to the effectiveness of her Termination techniques. Quill's own reaction to disaster had always been to re treat to a discreet distance until the fuss was over; every one else's seemed to be to crowd in and watch. Human beings—and their curiosity—never failed to amaze her.
"Myles offered to come home, of course," Quill said. "But I told him I don't think it's really necessary."
"You let me talk to him next time he calls," Denny said. "I'll let him know how necessary it is. We got ourselves a murderer here, plain and simple. That fire was set, sure as I'm the volunteer fire chief of the Hem lock Falls Volunteer Fire Department, and that poor lady murdered in her bed."
"Why didn't she just get up and get out?" Quill asked. "That's what's been bothering me. Was she that heavy a sleeper?"
"Andy said the autopsy wouldn't be finished until tomorrow." Meg ran both hands through her hair. "We won't know cause of death until then, and until we do— maybe it was just vandalism or something. Maybe the murder part was unintentional."
"Ladies, Chief." Rocky Burke approached the table, unsmiling, rumpled, his briefcase clutched in his hand. "Rocky Burke, Burke's Insurance. Mind if I sit down for a bit?"
"Siddown right here," Doreen said, pleased. She hitched her chair over to provide room for him. He sat down primly, holding his briefcase in his lap. "You got a check for us, mister?" Burke frowned. Doreen shook an admonitory finger in his face. "Now, you look and look smart—"
"Doreen," Quill said.
"—I got
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