Read Online Leave No Stone Unturned (A Lexie Starr Mystery, Book 1) by Jeanne Glidewell - Free Book Online Page A

anyway, so I crossed "speak
     with hiker" off my list.
    I bade farewell to the sheriff of DeKalb. He hadn't been particularly informative,
     but at least he'd been friendly and treated me with a lot more respect than Detective
     Glick.
    I wanted to ask the sheriff if Goober could look at my Jeep before I left.
    "Bye now, Ms. Starr," Sheriff Crabb said, through cupped hands.
    "Good-bye, and thanks for your help, Sheriff Wilbur 'T like in Ted' Crabb," I shouted
     out my window as I drove away.
    * * *
    When I sat down to a platter of poached eggs and toast the next morning at six o'clock
     sharp, I knew I was going to have to come up with a tactful lie. I was getting awfully
     good at lying by now. It bothered me a bit that it no longer caused me to stutter
     or feel compelled to crack my knuckles. I hadn't even given my fingernails a second
     glance in a long while.
    "Harriet, your cooking is so terrific that you're turning me into a naughty girl,"
     I said.
    Harriet took a deep drag off her Pall Mall and cocked her head in question. "Whatcha
     talking 'bout, girl?"
    "Recently I got a checkup at the health clinic and my cholesterol level was sky high.
     My triglycerides were off the chart too, and I'd put on ten pounds. I really need
     to cut back, particularly on the eggs. As much as it pains me, I think I'm going to
     have to cut out breakfast entirely. That will free you up in the morning anyway."
    "But that's what—"
    "There's really no sense you cooking just for me," I continued.
    "Yeah, but ya know—"
    "You have enough to do around here, Harriet, without pampering me."
    "But, breakfast's the most 'portant meal of the day. Ain't nobody told ya that?"
    "Oh, I know, but skipping breakfast isn't apt to kill me. Got to follow doctor's orders,
     you know," I said, as I gave Harriet an affectionate wink.
    "Bah," she spat. "I ain't been to no doctor in twenty years and look at me. They's
     all quacks anyway, iffing ya ask me," Harriet said. She patted her mop of white hair,
     then slid a wooden match across the side of her jeans, lightning fast, and lit another
     cigarette.
    "Well, you're probably right. But just for the heck of it, don't fix me any breakfast
     from now on. Okay? I'm getting much too fond of your poached eggs, and I don't want
     to get spoiled to the point that I'll be craving them when I get back home to Kansas."
    Harriet brightened at my last comments and nodded. "All righty, girl. Iffing that's
     what ya want. Price be the same, with or without breakfast, ya know."
    "Oh, of course," I said, amused by her spunkiness. After I'd downed another cup of
     Harriet's gritty coffee, which I was actually beginning to enjoy, I went up to my
     room to check my e-mail. I had only one message. It was from my extremely enraged
     and alarmed daughter.
    "Where are you?" her message read. "Get in touch with me right now! While I was over
     at your place, watering your plants, I found Stone Van Patten's number stuck to your
     computer screen and I called him. He wouldn't put you on the phone. Acted like he
     had no idea where you were, in fact. I'm not sure he even recognized your name. What's
     going on with you, Mom? This is just not like you at all. If I don't hear from you
     in the next couple of hours, I'm calling the Myrtle Beach police!"
    Oh, goodness. What was I going to do now? I paced around the room frantically and
     finally decided to walk up and use the pay phone at the drug store up the street.
     I didn't want Harriet to hear me talking to Wendy, so I couldn't ask to borrow her
     phone. With any luck at all, Wendy would be too irritated with me to take notice of
     the area code on her caller ID box.
    "Where are you, Mom?" Wendy's voice was anxious.
    "I'm right where I said I'd be, honey. To call you, I've had to borrow a cell phone
     from a gal I've met from New York. What's wrong, Wendy?"
    "That man said he couldn't bring you to the phone because you weren't there, hadn't
     been there, and had no plans of being