Read Online Kneading to Die by Liz Mugavero - Free Book Online Page B

library and the congregational church, where the crowd gathered. She wondered what religion, if any, Carole Morganwick practiced and where her funeral service would be held. If this was any indication, it would be well attended.
    She’d lost sight of Ray and Char, and Amara was small enough that Stan might never find her in the crowd. She hung back near a flowering dogwood tree, watching everyone around her. No one cried, but there were a lot of solemn expressions and whispering. Up front, two teenaged boys were setting up a makeshift podium on the pavement behind the library, where a group of three women and two men stood. A circle of Carole’s friends? Stan inched closer for a better view and felt someone grab her arm. She turned and almost bumped into Izzy Sweet. Baxter and Elvira immediately crowded around her, sniffing excitedly.
    â€œOh, hello,” Stan said, bending down to pet them. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything for you.”
    The dogs both sat and stared at her, as if encouraging her to change her mind.
    â€œHow are you?” Izzy asked, a twinge of sympathy in her voice. “I heard what happened.”
    â€œWho didn’t?” Stan muttered.
    Izzy threw back her head and laughed, drawing the attention of the people closest to them. She didn’t seem to care, or even notice. “Welcome to small-town America. I’m just sorry you were . . . involved. Was it terrible?”
    â€œIt wasn’t pleasant,” Stan said. “And I feel weird being here. I didn’t know her.”
    â€œIt’s appropriate to pay your respects. And quite noticed when you don’t.” Izzy smiled wryly. “Let’s move up to the front.”
    Stan followed Izzy as she weaved through the crowd, noting how people parted to let her through. She scanned faces as she went. It could be her imagination, but people’s words faded as she passed, and they moved farther away. Up front, more people had joined the teens. A man tested a microphone, which kept screeching feedback into the crowd, while a short woman with gray hair oversaw the whole operation, one foot tapping impatiently.
    Izzy stopped in front of an old-looking yellow Lab. He looked familiar. Then Stan realized his owner was the man outside the clinic yesterday. The woodworker.
    â€œHow’re you doing, Gene?” Izzy squeezed his arm sympathetically and petted the dog’s head. “Hi, Junior.”
    Junior wagged. Gene shrugged. His face seemed to sag with the weight of misery. “Okay. Just can’t believe it.”
    â€œNo one can,” Izzy said. “Do you know Stan?”
    Gene focused on her; his eyes were bleary. He shook her hand. “No. Gene Holdcroft.” Despite the hair, Stan could tell by his face he wasn’t as old as she’d first guessed. He stepped forward, more of a shuffle, really, with one leg dragging slightly. He shook her hand.
    â€œHi. Stan Connor.”
    Gene squinted at her, still holding on. “You were there. Monday. I saw ya come out. You’re the young lady who—”
    â€œGene, with Stan being new to town and all, I don’t think she’s seen your work yet,” Izzy broke in. “Well, other than the signs around town. Maybe I can bring her by the shop and we can get her something for her new house?”
    â€œSure, sure.”
    â€œGood. We’ll see you soon.” Izzy took Stan’s arm and pulled her ahead. “Poor guy. His wife passed away a while ago, and I think he was sweet on Carole. He’s taking it pretty hard.”
    â€œI hope he wasn’t going to say I was the young lady who did it,” Stan said.
    Izzy shook her head. “He’s a nice guy. Lived here his whole life. One of those small towners who knows where all the bodies are buried. No pun intended,” she added hastily.
    Stan wasn’t even in the frame of mind to laugh at that. Then she saw Jake. He talked with a guy