Read Online Death on a Short Leash by Gwendolyn Southin - Free Book Online Page A

thing happens all the time,” Maggie said.
    â€œEven my Aunt Jessie left some money to the nursing home she was in.”
    â€œBut this was a considerable sum, and he’s sure there’s something fishy going on there.” He peered at the hissing percolator.
    â€œThat coffee smells wonderful, Henny.”
    â€œI get your special cup,” she answered, mopping her eyes. “It needed lots of washing.”
    â€œFrom what Midge has told me,” Maggie said, “the patients are very well looked after and there is a long waiting list to get in. Your Mr. Slater could always contest the will.”
    â€œThat’s what I told him,” Nat said, “but he still wants us to look into the place.”
    â€œWe can’t just walk in and ask if they’re bilking their patients,” Maggie said, laughing.
    â€œNo, but he wants us to see if other ex-patients have left large amounts to them. We’ll need to know who’s on the board of directors. Can you do that, Maggie?”
    â€œI’ll call and ask them to send me one of their brochures.” She pulled the telephone book toward her. “Silver Springs,” she murmured, running her fingers down the Ss. “Ah. Here it is.”
    â€œSilver Springs Nursing Home,” a prim voice answered after Maggie had dialed the number. “May I help you?”
    â€œI’m very interested in placing my elderly mother in your residence,” Maggie said. “I understand you do have long-term care?”
    â€œYes, madam, but I’m afraid there’s quite a long waiting list.”
    â€œSo I understand,” Maggie replied. “But my mother is in the process of selling her home in Shaughnessy and needs expert care.”
    Maggie could practically hear the wheels turning when the receptionist heard the prestigious address. She added, “The house and estate are far too large for her to cope with in her present state of health.”
    â€œThe brochure will be sent immediately, madam,” the crisp voice answered. “We sometimes have a cancellation.”
    â€œMother will need to know who the board of directors are, of course.”
    â€œI will include the list with our brochure. And where shall I send it?” Maggie gave her own home address.
    It was late in the afternoon when George called. “I think I’ve found that place you were looking for,” he said when Maggie picked up the phone. “It’s called The Path to the Golden Light, and it’s not a dog kennel. It’s a farm run by a Brother Francois and his followers.”
    â€œNo dogs?”
    â€œNo dogs! Just the usual chickens and goats.”
    â€œWhat do you mean— his followers? ”
    â€œApparently it’s some kind of sect. They’re springing up all over the place.”
    â€œBoth Sandra and Johanna’s boyfriend said she was going to see some kennels. Must be some other place. But thanks, anyway,”
    Maggie said, then asked, “Do you know how the investigation’s going on with Johanna’s death?”
    â€œWe’ve interviewed lots of people, but so far no leads,” he answered. “You still looking into it?”
    â€œWe haven’t heard anything more from the Evans’ so I guess they’re leaving that end of it up to you guys.”
    â€œThat’s what we’re here for. Give your boss my best.”
    Maggie was just putting on her coat when the phone jangled again. “Blast!” She wavered. “I suppose I’d better see who it is.” To her surprise it was Marie Evans.
    â€œWe would like to make an appointment to see Mr. Southby as soon as possible,” she said. “David and I are not happy with the slowness of police.”
    â€œBut it’s only been a couple of weeks.”
    â€œYes. But already five weeks since Johanna was murdered.
    When can we come?”
    â€œI know that you have to catch a ferry,”