Read Online Mint Chip Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 6 by Susan Gillard - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Gillard
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around and play while he was out there,
he had plenty of room.
“Maybe we’ll start going on more walks
anyway,” Heather told him, as if he’d been privy to her thoughts. “Although
winter’s coming, so who knows?”
They followed the driveway to the
sidewalk, then turned right and walked to the corner. Turning right again,
they passed the front of Heather’s house and continued down the block.
It was dusk, and Heather knew they
didn’t have much time before the sun would go down completely. Well, maybe
just a short walk this time. Next time, they could go longer.
Her cell phone vibrated, then began to
play the Wedding March. Heather wondered if she would ever get tired of
hearing that song. “Hang on just a second, Dave,” she said, stopping to fish
the phone out of her pocket.
Dave didn’t mind. He found an
interesting tree nearby and marked his territory while she answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Beautiful, it’s me. I got your
text. What did you want me to check out?”
“Well, you know how I was talking to
Lana Sturmer this morning?”
“Yeah.”
Dave finished his business and tugged
on the leash as he started forward. Heather followed him.
“Well, I was just thinking. She said
she was tired because the pageant circuit was so exhausting. But the last
pageant Emily competed in was several days ago. She should have had time to
rest by now, if that was the problem.”
“Maybe Emily’s preparing for an
upcoming pageant,” Ryan said.
“That’s what I was thinking. So I was
wondering if you knew if there were any pageants coming up in this area anytime
soon.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I can
look.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem. So what did you think of
Ms. Sturmer?”
“Lisa was right. Lana has an
attitude. Imperious. I think that would be the word for it. And she’s cold,
too. She made some comment about how Kelly got what she deserved for messing
up Emily’s hair.”
“What exactly did she say?” Ryan
asked.
“Something like, ‘That woman deserved
what she got.’ And I said something like, ‘You mean the one who was
murdered?’ And she said, ‘Yeah, the one who got bludgeoned to death with her
own flat iron. And then—”
“What did she say?” Ryan’s voice was
suddenly tense. Excited.
“That Kelly deserved what she got?”
Heather asked.
“No! The part after that.”
“About how Kelly was bludgeoned with
her own flat iron?”
“Heather, where are you?” Ryan
demanded, his words spilling over each other. “Are you at home?”
“No, I’m out walking Dave,” she said.
“Ryan, what’s going on? What’s the big deal?”
“Lana Sturmer shouldn’t have known
that the murder weapon was a flat iron,” Ryan said.
“Apparently she reads the paper. She
said the paper said it was a flat iron.”
“The paper never said that,” Ryan
said, his voice intense. “Heather, how far are you from home?”
“Couple blocks. But Ryan, she said it
was in the paper. She must have read it.”
“I’m telling you it wasn’t in the paper,”
Ryan insisted. “The murder weapon was the one detail we were keeping back from
the media. I checked every inch of that paper every day to make sure it hadn’t
leaked.”
Heather felt a cold chill creeping
over her. “What are you saying?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
In the distance, a dark-colored car
rounded the corner and drove slowly up the block in her direction
.
“I’m saying there’s no way she could
have known about the murder weapon unless she was the one who killed Kelly.
And if she ever finds out that the flat iron wasn’t actually mentioned in the
paper, she could come after you.”
“What do I do?” Heather asked.
But his answer was drowned out in
he had plenty of room.
“Maybe we’ll start going on more walks
anyway,” Heather told him, as if he’d been privy to her thoughts. “Although
winter’s coming, so who knows?”
They followed the driveway to the
sidewalk, then turned right and walked to the corner. Turning right again,
they passed the front of Heather’s house and continued down the block.
It was dusk, and Heather knew they
didn’t have much time before the sun would go down completely. Well, maybe
just a short walk this time. Next time, they could go longer.
Her cell phone vibrated, then began to
play the Wedding March. Heather wondered if she would ever get tired of
hearing that song. “Hang on just a second, Dave,” she said, stopping to fish
the phone out of her pocket.
Dave didn’t mind. He found an
interesting tree nearby and marked his territory while she answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Beautiful, it’s me. I got your
text. What did you want me to check out?”
“Well, you know how I was talking to
Lana Sturmer this morning?”
“Yeah.”
Dave finished his business and tugged
on the leash as he started forward. Heather followed him.
“Well, I was just thinking. She said
she was tired because the pageant circuit was so exhausting. But the last
pageant Emily competed in was several days ago. She should have had time to
rest by now, if that was the problem.”
“Maybe Emily’s preparing for an
upcoming pageant,” Ryan said.
“That’s what I was thinking. So I was
wondering if you knew if there were any pageants coming up in this area anytime
soon.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I can
look.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem. So what did you think of
Ms. Sturmer?”
“Lisa was right. Lana has an
attitude. Imperious. I think that would be the word for it. And she’s cold,
too. She made some comment about how Kelly got what she deserved for messing
up Emily’s hair.”
“What exactly did she say?” Ryan
asked.
“Something like, ‘That woman deserved
what she got.’ And I said something like, ‘You mean the one who was
murdered?’ And she said, ‘Yeah, the one who got bludgeoned to death with her
own flat iron. And then—”
“What did she say?” Ryan’s voice was
suddenly tense. Excited.
“That Kelly deserved what she got?”
Heather asked.
“No! The part after that.”
“About how Kelly was bludgeoned with
her own flat iron?”
“Heather, where are you?” Ryan
demanded, his words spilling over each other. “Are you at home?”
“No, I’m out walking Dave,” she said.
“Ryan, what’s going on? What’s the big deal?”
“Lana Sturmer shouldn’t have known
that the murder weapon was a flat iron,” Ryan said.
“Apparently she reads the paper. She
said the paper said it was a flat iron.”
“The paper never said that,” Ryan
said, his voice intense. “Heather, how far are you from home?”
“Couple blocks. But Ryan, she said it
was in the paper. She must have read it.”
“I’m telling you it wasn’t in the paper,”
Ryan insisted. “The murder weapon was the one detail we were keeping back from
the media. I checked every inch of that paper every day to make sure it hadn’t
leaked.”
Heather felt a cold chill creeping
over her. “What are you saying?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
In the distance, a dark-colored car
rounded the corner and drove slowly up the block in her direction
.
“I’m saying there’s no way she could
have known about the murder weapon unless she was the one who killed Kelly.
And if she ever finds out that the flat iron wasn’t actually mentioned in the
paper, she could come after you.”
“What do I do?” Heather asked.
But his answer was drowned out in
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