Read Online January Thaw (The Murder-By-Month Mysteries) by Jess Lourey - Free Book Online Page B

mattress for the first time in weeks. I fought the anxiety, leaning over to sniff Johnny’s empty pillow. The faint scent of his spicy shampoo was comforting. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. At least I meant to, but it felt like the booglies had set up camp in it for the night. Dragging myself out of bed, I made my way to the kitchen, patting Luna’s happy head on the trek. Tiger Pop stretched when she saw me.
    “What time did Johnny leave?”
    Luna tried to beat the answer in Morse code using her tail, but alas, I was too dumb to understand. Thankfully, Johnny had left a note on the kitchen counter, which he must have very quietly cleaned while I slept:
    Sorry I had to leave before you woke up. Early day at work. You looked beautiful sleeping.
    I smiled and pushed a lock of my brown hair out of my eyes. The whole tangled mass moved as one. I ignored it and kept reading:
    I baked these cookies last night for dessert, but we didn’t have time to try them. I hope they’re good. I have evening commitments all week. Can you make it to our show on Friday? Call me. —J
    I was sorely tempted to scribble little hearts on that note and hide it under my pillow. That feeling doubled when I lifted the cover next to his note and uncovered a plate mounded with peanut butter cookies, my favorite. I was trying to lose a couple pounds in my belly, so I ate three of them fast following the time-honored maxim that a cookie eaten quickly has no calories.
    My next duty was to scrub out Luna and Tiger Pop’s water bowls, fill them with fresh water, and pour their daily ration of food. Somehow, Luna turned her portion into a lean German Shepherd machine. Tiger Pop managed to put on weight, even though the ratio of her food to her body size was the same as Luna’s. I suspected she’d figured out how to break into the cat food cupboard while I slept, or better yet open the fridge for snacks, then kick back on the couch and click on the TV to watch Animal Planet’s blooper reels when I wasn’t around. She was a cat, though. If she didn’t want me to know, I wasn’t going to know.
    I scratched them both behind the ears as they ate. We weren’t terribly active in the winter, which I occasionally felt bad about. Luna had her run of the acreage whenever she wanted, but I knew they both missed me when I was gone for long days.
    “Maybe we could hit the sledding hill sometime this week,” I suggested. Tiger Pop arched her spine when I scratched the sweet spot where her back met her tail.
    Once I was satisfied both animals knew they were loved, I hopped in the shower, applying extra conditioner so I stood a chance of forcing a comb through my shoulder-blade-length brown hair afterward. I also shaved, though I had to change razors halfway through. I lotioned up afterward, rolled on some honey-flavored lip balm, tossed myself into a clean pair of blue jeans, my comfy white bra (which I had to dig out from behind the nightstand), and a rainbow t-shirt that read “Freedom to Love.”
    Today’s plans were informal. The library was technically closed on Sundays, though I had agreed to open the space to host a birthday party for Matthew, one of my favorite story hour regulars. He turned five this week. Before the birthday party, I had a meeting scheduled with an attorney at the Litchfield Law Firm. He said he had a small investigative job that he’d like to talk about over a cup of coffee. I also needed to interview Gilbert Hullson about Jiffy, the ice-diving dog, and I wanted to stop by the nursing home to visit my friend and amateur historian Curtis Poling to ask him some questions. Dangit, I wanted to stop by the hospital in Fergus and check on Gary, as well.
    Phew. I was tired just thinking about my supposed day off. I gave the animals some more love, tugged a cap over my wet hair and my down jacket over my t-shirt, and headed into the cold world.

Thirteen
    Chuck Litchfield was in his seventies, white-haired but sharp. His son