Read Online Murder in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery by Meg Muldoon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Meg Muldoon
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yet,” I said, shaking my head. “I told Warren I’d pick him up from the tavern in a little while.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Daniel said.
“C’mon,” John said, coming over to me. “Let’s go.”
“I can drive myself,” I said. “I don’t need to be carted around.”
“No. You’re in shock,” Daniel said. “You shouldn’t drive.”
He looked at John.
“Make sure to get her home safe,” Daniel said.
John didn’t say anything. He just put his arms around my shoulders in an awkward and uncomfortable way. He led me out through the dining room and through the front door.
Any other time, I might have protested more.
But a deep exhaustion had settled over me. Maybe it was the discovery in the woods, or the extreme highs and lows of the busy day, but I felt like a zombie emerging from the ground as I walked out of my pie shop.
John opened the door to his car and I got in, nearly falling asleep on my feet.
Chapter 18
Once, when I was a teenager, I saw a pie eating contest at the Pohly County Fair where one of the participants ate too much pie and threw up all over the place before being rushed to the hospital.
There were rumors that a little girl riding the Ferris wheel found a regurgitated blueberry in her hair.
That was a hot mess.
But it was nothing compared to the kind of day I had had.
The only light at the end of the tunnel had been the fact that Daniel had been there for some of it.
I heard the front door slam just as I was dozing off to a rerun of The Big Valley , watching Victoria Barkley descend the stairs of her ranch mansion in an outrageous purple dress. I was lying in my room, wrapped in a pile of comforters and flannel sheets to get the cold out, but so far, it wasn’t working.
John had tried to stay, but I told him I was tired and just needed some rest. He said he would check up on me in the morning and that he was glad I was okay. I thanked him, and then felt guilty about the whole thing.
I should have talked to him on the way over in the car about what I had decided, but it just never came up.
I sighed. There were some voices downstairs. Warren’s, and then someone else’s.
It must have been Daniel.
I suppressed a smile. That must have gone over well. After the second week of me moping around when Daniel left 17 years ago, Warren finally got it out of me what had happened. He told me that of course Daniel was probably going through a rough time, but that he should have returned my calls at least. Warren got pretty angry and threatened to go to California and find both Daniel and his father, and have a real talking to them. Nobody treats my granddaughter like that! I remember him saying. But I begged him to drop it, and he did.
Now, here Daniel was picking him up from the tavern. I was sure Daniel got an earful on the car ride over.
And maybe he did deserve it, in some ways.
I heard heavy, slow footsteps up the stairs, and then they stopped in front of my door. It creaked open, the hall light crept in across the wood floor.
“You awake, Cinny?” Warren whispered.
I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up,” I said.
He came in and sat at the edge of the bed. He hadn’t taken off his jacket and hat yet.
“Don’t you worry about that,” he said, patting my leg. “Your friend told me what happened.”
I sighed and adjusted the pillows so I could sit up.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s been a weird day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
I pulled the covers around me tightly to lock out the cold.
“I didn’t even see the body,” I said. “Just a hand. It wasn’t a big deal.”
I was trying to brush it off, that same old defense mechanism kicking in. The one that tried to make others believe I was strong, to show that I couldn’t be touched.
But Warren could see through all that. He always could. Like when I dyed my hair black in the seventh grade, or got a lip piercing a year later. Most
“I’ll take care of it,” Daniel said.
“C’mon,” John said, coming over to me. “Let’s go.”
“I can drive myself,” I said. “I don’t need to be carted around.”
“No. You’re in shock,” Daniel said. “You shouldn’t drive.”
He looked at John.
“Make sure to get her home safe,” Daniel said.
John didn’t say anything. He just put his arms around my shoulders in an awkward and uncomfortable way. He led me out through the dining room and through the front door.
Any other time, I might have protested more.
But a deep exhaustion had settled over me. Maybe it was the discovery in the woods, or the extreme highs and lows of the busy day, but I felt like a zombie emerging from the ground as I walked out of my pie shop.
John opened the door to his car and I got in, nearly falling asleep on my feet.
Chapter 18
Once, when I was a teenager, I saw a pie eating contest at the Pohly County Fair where one of the participants ate too much pie and threw up all over the place before being rushed to the hospital.
There were rumors that a little girl riding the Ferris wheel found a regurgitated blueberry in her hair.
That was a hot mess.
But it was nothing compared to the kind of day I had had.
The only light at the end of the tunnel had been the fact that Daniel had been there for some of it.
I heard the front door slam just as I was dozing off to a rerun of The Big Valley , watching Victoria Barkley descend the stairs of her ranch mansion in an outrageous purple dress. I was lying in my room, wrapped in a pile of comforters and flannel sheets to get the cold out, but so far, it wasn’t working.
John had tried to stay, but I told him I was tired and just needed some rest. He said he would check up on me in the morning and that he was glad I was okay. I thanked him, and then felt guilty about the whole thing.
I should have talked to him on the way over in the car about what I had decided, but it just never came up.
I sighed. There were some voices downstairs. Warren’s, and then someone else’s.
It must have been Daniel.
I suppressed a smile. That must have gone over well. After the second week of me moping around when Daniel left 17 years ago, Warren finally got it out of me what had happened. He told me that of course Daniel was probably going through a rough time, but that he should have returned my calls at least. Warren got pretty angry and threatened to go to California and find both Daniel and his father, and have a real talking to them. Nobody treats my granddaughter like that! I remember him saying. But I begged him to drop it, and he did.
Now, here Daniel was picking him up from the tavern. I was sure Daniel got an earful on the car ride over.
And maybe he did deserve it, in some ways.
I heard heavy, slow footsteps up the stairs, and then they stopped in front of my door. It creaked open, the hall light crept in across the wood floor.
“You awake, Cinny?” Warren whispered.
I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up,” I said.
He came in and sat at the edge of the bed. He hadn’t taken off his jacket and hat yet.
“Don’t you worry about that,” he said, patting my leg. “Your friend told me what happened.”
I sighed and adjusted the pillows so I could sit up.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s been a weird day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
I pulled the covers around me tightly to lock out the cold.
“I didn’t even see the body,” I said. “Just a hand. It wasn’t a big deal.”
I was trying to brush it off, that same old defense mechanism kicking in. The one that tried to make others believe I was strong, to show that I couldn’t be touched.
But Warren could see through all that. He always could. Like when I dyed my hair black in the seventh grade, or got a lip piercing a year later. Most
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