Read Online Murder in the Boonies: A Sleuth Sisters Mystery (The Sleuth Sisters Book 3) by Maggie Pill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maggie Pill
Tags: Fiction
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would be me.”
“Really? I didn’t know you were in property management.”
She shrugged modestly. “A few years back the guy who owned this place got sick and wanted to unload it. After we dickered a little, I got a price I could afford. I figured I’d charge rent instead of paying it, and so far it’s worked out okay.”
“That’s great, first because you’re doing well and second because I have questions.”
She closed the cash register drawer and removed the key. “I’ll try to help.”
“Didn’t Rose Isley rent from you for a while?”
Ellie nodded. “When I bought the building, she had two rooms on the west side. She did beautiful work, but Rose has no head for business.” She ticked off items on her fingers. “In the first place, she practically gave her stuff away. In the second place, she’d get caught up in something she was working on and forget there were orders she was supposed to get done. And in the third place, she often closed up in the middle of the day because of some event at church she felt obligated to help with.” Ellie set a box of buttons under the counter. “People appreciate artistry, but they also expect common sense.”
“So Rose’s business failed.”
“We all tried to help her. She had a little income because of her husband’s death, but she wasn’t much good at managing that either. She’d buy a bunch of stuff from the other artists here and then not have enough for the rent either here or at home.”
“Then she met Ben McAdams.”
Ellie put things away as we talked. “I suppose he was good for her in some ways because he forced order onto the chaos that was Rose’s life.”
“They did well together, then?”
She gave a snort of disagreement. “I said in some ways. In others, not so much.” A box bumped into place on a shelf below the counter. “I met Ben the day he came to help her move her stuff out. He was nice to look at, but kind of nutty.”
“In what way?”
“Well, I saw right away why he lived out in the boonies. He looked like Jeremiah Johnson, and he barely spoke to me. Later, when he thought I couldn’t hear, he made a nasty crack about me making money off other people’s labor.” Ellie held out her arthritic hands. “Do these look like I sit back and rest while others toil around me?”
“So Rose left the co-op and went to live with Ben?”
“Right. She still makes lovely things, but they sell them from home or at craft shows.” Ellie grimaced. “They eliminated the evil middle-man: me.”
“Did you talk to her after she moved out?”
“Once. We met on the street, and Rose seemed really glad to see me. She said things were fine. Ben was fine. The girls were fine. Her work was fine.” With a gesture, Ellie swept away all that fineness. “I think she was miserable, but she didn’t know how to change things.”
“Too bad,” I murmured.
“It’s hard to know who to blame,” Ellie said. “A man like Ben is domineering, but maybe he gives a woman like Rose the structure she lacks. I worry about those poor girls, though. Just because their mother needs someone to tell her what to do every second doesn’t mean they need it too.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Barb
As Faye cooked dinner for the girls, she dealt with no less than three hot flashes. Sweater on, sweater off, back door open, back door closed, and so on until the meal was ready. Despite frequent wardrobe changes, she created a delicious meal of home-made chicken tenders, fries, and corn.
The Isleys dug in eagerly, not the least bit shy about filling their plates. My sister has a way of making people feel at home. There’s no magic phrase, gesture, or action, but there’s never a stranger in Faye’s kitchen.
There was hardly room at Faye’s refinished oak table for six of us, but we managed. Iris, the perfect lady, sat demurely next to me and made polite conversation. Seated between Iris and Dale, Pansy ate like someone who’s been living in the woods should,
“Really? I didn’t know you were in property management.”
She shrugged modestly. “A few years back the guy who owned this place got sick and wanted to unload it. After we dickered a little, I got a price I could afford. I figured I’d charge rent instead of paying it, and so far it’s worked out okay.”
“That’s great, first because you’re doing well and second because I have questions.”
She closed the cash register drawer and removed the key. “I’ll try to help.”
“Didn’t Rose Isley rent from you for a while?”
Ellie nodded. “When I bought the building, she had two rooms on the west side. She did beautiful work, but Rose has no head for business.” She ticked off items on her fingers. “In the first place, she practically gave her stuff away. In the second place, she’d get caught up in something she was working on and forget there were orders she was supposed to get done. And in the third place, she often closed up in the middle of the day because of some event at church she felt obligated to help with.” Ellie set a box of buttons under the counter. “People appreciate artistry, but they also expect common sense.”
“So Rose’s business failed.”
“We all tried to help her. She had a little income because of her husband’s death, but she wasn’t much good at managing that either. She’d buy a bunch of stuff from the other artists here and then not have enough for the rent either here or at home.”
“Then she met Ben McAdams.”
Ellie put things away as we talked. “I suppose he was good for her in some ways because he forced order onto the chaos that was Rose’s life.”
“They did well together, then?”
She gave a snort of disagreement. “I said in some ways. In others, not so much.” A box bumped into place on a shelf below the counter. “I met Ben the day he came to help her move her stuff out. He was nice to look at, but kind of nutty.”
“In what way?”
“Well, I saw right away why he lived out in the boonies. He looked like Jeremiah Johnson, and he barely spoke to me. Later, when he thought I couldn’t hear, he made a nasty crack about me making money off other people’s labor.” Ellie held out her arthritic hands. “Do these look like I sit back and rest while others toil around me?”
“So Rose left the co-op and went to live with Ben?”
“Right. She still makes lovely things, but they sell them from home or at craft shows.” Ellie grimaced. “They eliminated the evil middle-man: me.”
“Did you talk to her after she moved out?”
“Once. We met on the street, and Rose seemed really glad to see me. She said things were fine. Ben was fine. The girls were fine. Her work was fine.” With a gesture, Ellie swept away all that fineness. “I think she was miserable, but she didn’t know how to change things.”
“Too bad,” I murmured.
“It’s hard to know who to blame,” Ellie said. “A man like Ben is domineering, but maybe he gives a woman like Rose the structure she lacks. I worry about those poor girls, though. Just because their mother needs someone to tell her what to do every second doesn’t mean they need it too.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Barb
As Faye cooked dinner for the girls, she dealt with no less than three hot flashes. Sweater on, sweater off, back door open, back door closed, and so on until the meal was ready. Despite frequent wardrobe changes, she created a delicious meal of home-made chicken tenders, fries, and corn.
The Isleys dug in eagerly, not the least bit shy about filling their plates. My sister has a way of making people feel at home. There’s no magic phrase, gesture, or action, but there’s never a stranger in Faye’s kitchen.
There was hardly room at Faye’s refinished oak table for six of us, but we managed. Iris, the perfect lady, sat demurely next to me and made polite conversation. Seated between Iris and Dale, Pansy ate like someone who’s been living in the woods should,
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