Read Online Going Through the Notions (A Deadly Notions Mystery) by Cate Price - Free Book Online Page B

me back toward the car.
    “No, I came alone,” I said, feeling as though I was in some kind of low-budget gangster movie.
    Raindrops were falling harder now, dotting the plastic cling wrap as Cyril took the plate from my hands. “Well, I suppose you’d best come in.”
    The mobile home–type building had two doors on the side of it. He walked past the first door, and opened up the second one at the back.
    I followed him in and stopped stock-still. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but this wide, bright kitchen definitely wasn’t it. Next to the window at the end sat a white table covered by a lace tablecloth, with a vigorous Boston fern hanging in the far corner. On the table, a tea cozy snuggled around a brown ceramic teapot, and a silver rack held several pieces of toast. I’d only ever seen one before in a hotel. The fragrance of freshly toasted bread still hung in the air.
    A double doorway from the white-tiled kitchen opened to a decent-sized living room. There were a few antiques. Not many, but the pieces he had were nice, like the grandfather clock in the corner and a mahogany cabinet holding some Minton bone china. A recliner covered with a crocheted brown, orange, and yellow afghan was angled in front of the television.
    The place was spare, but clean and neat. That first door to the trailer must have been his office. I was right—he did live here in this place, on this deserted dead-end road, all by himself.
    “Were ya born in a barn?” he barked. “Put the wood in t’hole.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    He gestured to the door behind me.
    “Oh, right. Sorry.” I turned and shut it.
    “Cuppa tea?” He glared at me as he asked the question.
    “Oh, no, it’s okay. I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”
    “You already did. And as I can see you aren’t leaving until you get what you came for, you may as well park yerself.”
    “Fine.” I glared back and sat down at the kitchen table. A square Limoges plate held the remains of his breakfast—some scrambled eggs and a corner of a piece of toast. He’d been working on a crossword puzzle in the newspaper.
    While he busied himself getting a mug out of a kitchen cabinet, I took a surreptitious glance at the puzzle. It was mainly filled in with his wavering capital letters, except for one long twelve-letter word with a
c
as the third letter and a
t
at the end. The clue was “defies authority.” I knew I drove Sarah and Joe crazy whenever we watched
Wheel of Fortune.
I could solve it with only one letter showing, or sometimes none at all.
    Cyril handed me a mug and I took a sip of the tea. It was strong and sweet. “Thank you. Just the way I like it.”
    Not that he’d bothered to ask if I took milk and sugar.
    He sat down opposite me and bit into one of Martha’s cookies. “Now then, was there summat you wanted to ask me?”
    “Yes.” I cleared my throat, and took another mouthful of the delicious brew. “The thing is, Angus doesn’t seem to be able to remember much about that night at the pub with Jimmy. You were there. I was hoping you could shed some light on the situation. I mean, were they really that drunk? Did you notice anything unusual?”
    “Well, Jimmy was sloshed. As per usual.” He dunked the rest of the cookie in his tea. “Angus was goin’ sideways, too, but believe it or not, I’ve seen him worse. Although lately he don’t seem to know whether it’s Tuesday or Christmas, the poor bugger.”
    I blew out a breath. “I know. Now, were he and Jimmy getting along?”
    “Aye, fair t’middlin. Jimmy was buying drinks like there was no tomorrow.”
    But as it turned out, there wasn’t one. For him.
    “Do you know who else could have wanted to murder Jimmy? Because we both know Angus didn’t do it. Did he have any enemies? Was he in any kind of trouble?”
    He shrugged. “Not that I know of. Although Jimmy weren’t no prince, neither.”
    “Any strangers in the bar? Like a tall, black-haired woman?” I