Read Online Murder in the Mist by Loretta C. Rogers - Free Book Online

second to think about the upcoming headlines for the paper’s next issue. Opening her laptop, she typed: Garlic Lands Bride in the Soup. For the next few hours she concentrated on writing her articles.
    At noon, her aunt entered. “All work and no play makes for a dull reporter. Let’s walk over to the Silly Lobstah for lunch.”
    “You don’t have to ask twice. I’m starved.”
    Engrossed in conversation, it was yelps that drew their attention in time to see Benjamin Noone flail a dog with a shovel before he yelled and gave chase. “I catch you digging in my flowers again, and the next time it’ll be more than a whack with a shovel.”
    Phyllis’s voice was stern and commanding. “Stop it. Don’t hurt that poor animal.”
    Benjamin stood still, the shovel held in mid-air. He glowered at her. “Dog can find someplace else to bury its bones. So mind your business, ’cause keeping this square beautiful is my business.”
    Phyllis linked arms with her niece, and gave a tug. “C’mon, Laura.”
    “Aunt Philly, did you see the expression on his face? He looked almost…demented.”
    “I told you he was a strange duck. By the way, I don’t recognize the dog. Maybe it belongs to one of the campers visiting the national park. I’ll put in a call to Bryan Cole, the park ranger, to ask if anyone is missing a pet.”
    Over a dish of baked sea scallops marinated in garlic butter, Phyllis made a suggestion. “I can’t believe how fast time has flown. You’ve been here almost a month. I say, let’s have an adventure.”
    Laura dabbed a piece of crusty bread in the savory sauce and plopped it into her mouth. Between chews, she said, “What do you have in mind?”
    “Pine Island is one of my favorite spots. I’ll make sure Harmon Taylor has the skiff in good running order. What about a day of exploration, with a picnic, next Saturday?”
    “Sounds like fun, but won’t the owner get upset if strangers tromp all over the island without permission?”
    Phyllis smiled over the rim of her iced tea glass. “Since I’m personal friends with the owner, I don’t think she’ll mind.”
    “Who? Maudie? Nadia? One of your other friends?”
    “You’re looking at her. Me. Several years ago, I got wind of a speculator interested in developing the island. The last thing I wanted to see was those beautiful trees and the wildlife displaced by a hotel and a bunch of littering tourists. I pulled a few strings to buy it out from under him. I’ve willed it to the government to become a sanctuary when I die, so the island will remain a natural habitat permanently, for all to enjoy.”
    “Aunt Philly, you are one in a million. I’m sorry I’ve stayed away for such a long time. I have a feeling I’ve missed out on many special times with you. And, yes to Saturday. It’s a date.”
    What Laura really wanted after the meal was a nap, but work called. In the office, she wrote her next Tidings article and then turned her attention to the morgue books stacked on the end of her desk.
    The first two books held nothing she felt related to the spirit that had visited her. By six o’clock, she had decided to leave the next volume for the morning, but curiosity won out, and she opened it. On page five, a headline caught her attention, an article about a teenage girl named Brenda Alligood, whose neck had been broken. The boy who killed her, Bennie Weiner, had been sent to a mental institution. She searched her memory. Neither Brenda’s nor Bennie’s name came up.
    Laura grabbed another morgue book from the closet. She locked the office and walked to the private entrance that led to the living quarters above the library. A familiar excitement filled her. The kind of excitement that happened before a big story broke. She wondered if there was a connection between the spirit and the murdered girl.

Chapter Nine
    After supper, Laura plumped two pillows and used the headboard as support, a cup of tea in her hand, the scrapbook propped